Numbers
by FiaJane
Summary: After finishing Season 3 and painfully watching the flat romantic subplot involving Michael Gray dissipate before my eyes, I decided to make my own. Rain Kinsley, the Card Counter, a street gambler struggles to run from both the coppers and the Shelbys. Although, there is one member of the family that can't seem to get enough of her once she's recruited into the Shelby business.
1. Green Eyes

It was no longer a cold evening, just a busy one. On the grey streets of Birmingham walked five men. All strapped in their tattered coats, making their way down a rather empty street. Smog and horseshit polluted those quarters, both natural covers for Rain's gambling corner. It wasn't raining that night, so this called upon a larger crowd, more than her usual guests.

Her corner stood under a withering streetlamp beside the Shelby pub, which almost completely failed from illuminating the action down below. A few boys were already hitching cards from their hands onto the concrete. Money was being passed around from man to man as the fallen cards raved the calamity in their voices. Dice were being rolled, and cards shuffled, and money counted from the swift hands of Rain Kingsley.

The picture was odd, yes. All these howling men surrounding a young lady dressed as a common street boy: suspenders, cap, and all. She stood in a staggering stance with a lit cigarette perched between her lips. Her black hair was cut short, to her ears, and dirt scattered across her freckled face. It was as if the only preposterous sight amongst the gambling men was the fact that the frail one, holding the money, appeared to be one of Zhang's men.

It's true, Rain was part Chinese, and it was hard enough to live with that on her shoulders. But masquerading as a boy was the best decision she could ever have made in her life. No one looked twice once she placed her hat slightly over her eyes, and the coppers paid no attention to raggedly dressed boy . . . unless, of course, he were orchestrating a crowd of gambling men.

"Gentlemen!" she bolstered in a rough voice, "We must all lower our voices if we wish to continue on playing!" The crowd of men instantly lowered their rioting into a slight howl. "That's better!" she stood with her legs spread apart, a few hundred pounds in one hand, cigarette in the other. "Now who's leaning on Smith? There's a ten pound starting fee for this bloke!" she called out to newcomers.

 _Fools_ , she thought. They were all half-drunk men coming out from the backdoor of Thomas Shelby's pub. Most of these men were under his employment, which meant they were handsomely compensated for their line of work, which also meant Rain was about to make good business tonight.

Smith was the bearded fellow on the right, rolling the dice and claiming a few victories here and there, which urged the surrounding players to bet on his final win. However, Rain was fully aware that Jim was the real threat, and only a few men were betting on his triumph. She had been eyeing the cards that were distributed from the start of the game.

Each shuffle, each draw, each discard; Rain effortlessly analyzed and calculated the shift from card to card, roll to roll, all the while, handling the money and urging Smith's name in winnings. Numbers casually strolled through her conscious as the game went on, until finally . . . the last draw.

In that moment of dear silence, the alley behind the Shelby pub was, in fact, frozen in time. Rain herself, did not hesitate when she placed her bid on Jim. It was all there, right in front of her.

"Fuckin' Hell!" a bidder shouted in the night. Many others groaned and fell away from the game as Jim slammed his final hand on the wet concrete.

"I lost?" Bearded Smith shamelessly sat in a puddle of his own misery as the crowd began to disperse in agony.

The few winners cheered in delight, along with Rain, who stood utterly neutral between the two competitors.

"You did your best, Smithy. But, sadly, it wasn't enough!" she began to split the money accordingly, handing, a happy, Jim his winnings. "Now run along, and come back to win it all back next time. Go on, the missus is waiting at home, she must be worried sick!"

"Fuck off, Rain." He uttered, slouching away into the street filled with miserable losers.

"And for you three, you lucky bastards." She handed the young boys their share and pocketed the rest: a staggering sum. "That was quite the game, ey?!"

"Wish I was here to see it in full action." A voice appeared from behind Rain.

She was quick to swiftly jump ahead and turn to see who had so quietly snuck up behind her during the quick descent of the high from winning. The light from above remained dim, but was fully capable of recognizing a well-dressed man as part of the Shelby Organization.

Rain stood with her hands in her pockets, sleeves rolled up, as she eyed the young men who stood only a few paces away from her.

One stood almost perfectly straight, like a gentleman who was attempting to appear a bit less . . . straight? His structure was nice and fit, he had certainly been pampered as a child, but Rain gathered there was something behind his almost perfect face and posture. There was something hiding in those green eyes.

 _Now_ , the young man who stood next to him was a bit more convincing. There was nothing but fire in his black eyes and he sported a dangerously playful grin. His slightly darker skin almost glowed under the light. Rain was completely sold on his intense gaze as something dangerous.

"You're one of Zhang's boys?" Intense asked, as if he were accusing Rain of something. She felt slightly offended.

Rain scanned her clothes. "Do you think a whoring boy would be out on the streets at night collecting cash from other men- oh wait, I see!" she laughed, "I set myself up for that one. Why? You want a taste of some Chinese?" she toyed.

Intense grew closer, along with the other.

"Did you manage to collect a Gaming License while you were shouting out your biddings behind a Shelby establishment?" Green Eyes questioned.

"You know, about that-" and Rain quickly dashed off into the night in mid-speech.

"He's the one, Michael!" she heard Intense call out behind her as she whirled into a dark alley.

There was nothing but darkness ahead of her and a slew of voices behind her. She couldn't tell if there was more than those two running after her, but knowing that those two were behind her was enough to get her running up to speed. The cool wind felt like ice as she twisted and turned, occasionally jumping over drunken men. If this were a sport, she'd be ace in any competition.

Rain wondered if there were any shops open at this hour, but the voices behind her deemed her hunger unimportant. Her heart raced as she did so on the dark streets. The only visible light came from the stars. Even the moon was hiding from all this nonsense, but the stars were there to guide her.

 _Just one more corner and-_

"Fuckin' Hell!" she groaned as a body slammed right into hers. The force threw both of them into a shadowed, wet alley. Rain lay on the ground with the wind knocked out of her after a rough crash, but she struggled within his grasp. It was Green Eyes who brought her to the ground, he held her firmly by the shoulders. Rain regained control and lunged him off of her bruised body, only to roll him under her. In the process she had lost her hat, her hair was soaked from the puddles of water, it trailed down her dirty face.

Rain's guttural protests filled the vacant alleyway as Green Eyes gripped Rain's throat while she forced her knee firmly over his windpipe. She could tell he was in much more pain, than she, for his green eyes began to well up and redden. Rain rapidly shifted the position of her knee, allowing him to breathe, rendering her throat free. It gave her a chance to throw a series fists at Green Eyes' pretty face, grunting in exhaustion.

Once Rain felt his grasp on her weaken, she bolted for the exit of the alleyway.

With a groan, Green Eyes managed to shift from the ground and pounce up to wrench Rain back onto the wet ground, slamming her skull on the stones. He crouched on top of her, _his_ legs straddling _her_ torso, hands clenching onto her wrists over her head. She was completely botched by Green Eyes. The worst thing was, she could no longer see the stars in this dark alley with him hovering over her like a deranged dog with blood running down his beaten face. Rain imagined she looked just as appealing.

"Your head," Rain managed to speak, though her mind and body were both fatigued, " . . . it is extremely huge, my friend." She laughed, her normal girlish laugh that only appeared for she was dazed from the blow to her head. It would probably be the last time she would do so if Intense were to show up.

Green Eyes cocked his head, his breathing heavy. "You're a girl?"

"Feel free to make sure of this accusation while you have the chance, before your friend gets here." Rain snapped as she panted. Rain had run from this wickedness for so long, it was only a matter of time before the devil had caught up with her and took what many men thought they owned. The painful part was that Rain wasn't even drunk to endure such torture.

A few seconds of silence passed by as Rain remained under Green Eyes' grasp. His breathing had slowed down, but that look of confusion prevailed. Rain shook her head.

"Well!? Go on with it!" she spat.

"The Card Counter, the one who runs illegal gambling in Birmingham is a girl?" he breathed, almost as if he weren't speaking to Rain.

"Awful name, isn't it?" Rain inquired.

Green Eyes snapped back into focus, Rain felt the grip on her tired hands tighten. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you could've been in if some other group had found you?"

"Can't say I do." Rain shrugged.

He refrained from speaking any further. Rain could see the thoughts running through his mind. She saw it in his eyes, how badly he wanted to deliver her to his boss, and yet, he hesitated. That doubt plagued his sensible, green eyes.

Rain felt him release his grip on her wrists. He carefully pushed himself off of her body and backed away. At this, she cocked her head, but said nothing. She struggled to pick herself up. Every bone in her body ached, but she managed to balance herself up without crying out in pain.

"Michael!" someone was yelling in the distance. It was Intense.

A sense of urgency sparked through Rain. His voice was getting closer.

"Go!" Green Eyes waved her off. "Now!"

And so she ran.


	2. Mr Shelby

There was no doubt Rain had been ecstatic about her release. She almost couldn't believe this outcome. She was so shaken up, the girl actually heaved out onto the corner of the alleyway before running for home. Rain gripped the wall as her dinner reappeared before her. It took every bit of her remaining strength to cease this action. She had to keep quiet. The other one was near, and she was only around the corner.

Footsteps halted on the other side of the alley. Rain kept still, her back to the wall.

"Michael! Where is the bastard?" he growled in the cold night.

Rain could hear their heavy breathing, she forced her own to relax. If she were to be discovered, there'd be no more running for her.

"We had a bit of a toss, Isiah," He struggled to catch his breath. "He got away."

And they were off. She could hear them retreating back into the direction of the Shelby pub.

Rain recited a silent prayer for this Michael boy; he had kept her secret, even when he had no reason to due so.

The next few days were not very pleasant for Rain. She was bed ridden for two full days, bruised and broken in her small bedroom.

The home she lived in was small and secluded, away from most of the fights and lively places. It sat near a soot-producing factory and was surrounded by its rubble and dirt. Other tenants lived above her; they were rowdy and often fucked _loudly,_ especially in the afternoons, which is one of the many reasons why she hated being home during the day.

After Rain was well enough to stand, she declared she was well enough to attend her day job. The Chinese Quarters of Birmingham was, unsurprisingly, welcoming of Rain. She did, after all, possess a few Chinese features. Mr. Zhang had initially wanted her as one of his whores, but she declined, for obvious reasons. But she displayed her interest in numbers, and how she could greatly benefit his business, and so he hired her as the treasurer of his suit shop front. Though the pay was shit . . . it was still pay.

Many of his customers were not from the Chinese quarters. They were bad men, Rain could tell. Some went in the back for a taste of Mr. Zhang's girls, and some would simply pick and purchase their suits. Of course there were also worthless men who foolishly try to undermine Rain's basic counting skills. It happened often, and Rain would set the rules straight with a bit of force, although on the fourth day since her night in the alley, she found herself arguing in the presence of a Shelby.

An important one.

Thomas Shelby entered Mr. Zhang's establishment that day.

He would only come in person if there was serious business at hand. Rain had a feeling _she_ was the business, but he had walked right past her. She knew it was Thomas Shelby in the flesh, for every other man in the room looked the other way as the dark man walked in. No eye contact was made, and the only one who dared to speak to him was Mr. Zhang. He walked as if he knew exactly where to go and didn't stagger. Rain silently thanked the Lord for his ignorance. If there was one man Rain strayed away from it was Thomas Shelby.

"What do you mean I'm short!?" a dirty old man in proper clothing stood baffled before Rain. She instructed the two men outside to stop him from exiting the establishment, right as Thomas Shelby walked by with his piercing blue eyes. She brushed his existence away once he reached Mr. Zhang . . . athough the fear lingered.

"You pay by the minute, sir. And you've been here for more than twenty." She sighed.

"Twenty minutes is five pounds! And that's what you've got, boy!" he threatened.

Rain leaned back in her chair counting the shillings from behind the counter. She lazily met his glance. "You've been back there with Min for exactly Twenty-Two minutes and thirty-five seconds. That's five pounds, ten shillings, and a few pennies." Rain slammed the ends of her chair onto the floor. "However, it seems as though you're tight on money, sir, so I'm willing to let those few pennies go."

"Why, you fuckin' bloke!" the man grasped on to Rain's shirt, which _did_ rattle her, but it was not unexpected. Coins were scattered and papers flew off the counter as she was dragged across it and brought straight up to his smelly face. "You've got the fuckin' nerve to insult me! You dirty mutt-"

Almost instantly, two men, whom Rain could not recall as one of Zhang's men, pulled him away from Rain. She fell on to the floor amongst the whirlwind of noise and shouting and movement. Her mind was still a bit fuzzy from the injury she endured a few days back in the alley. This forceful drop didn't seem to help. It took her a few moments to process what fuckery she had just faced and push herself from the cold floor.

Only to add more to the weirdness, once Rain held up her head, she found herself standing before the only man who actually evoked fear from her soul . . . Mr. Thomas Shelby. He seemed to be holding out his hand to her.

 _What was she to do? Take it? Was this a trick?_

Amongst the chasm of noise, his voice seemed to seep through the clamor.

"Are you hurt?" his voice was cold, as if it could cut straight through stone. _Why was a voice like that wasting its gift of fear on kindness?_ Nevertheless, Rain took his hand as he helped her to her feet. She couldn't help but gape into his cobalt eyes. They were _filled_ with darkness.

"Answer me, girl." He didn't raise his voice, not for a second.

Rain looked back at the source of nonsense. "I'm fine." She said. No point of lying now.

Mr. Shelby walked past her and to the customer. "Mr. Murphy, you've been drinking, now haven't you?" he stood without rustling as Mr. Shelby approached him.

"I'm tellin' ya, Mr. Shelby! The boy's a filthy maggot! Only aching to chew every coin out of me-"

"Aye, Mr. Murphy." Mr. Shelby began in an uncharacteristically calm voice. "No need to fret," he pulled out a few pounds from his pocket and handed it to Mr. Zhang; who stood behind the counter now. It was more than what Mr. Murphy owed.

"You won't have to worry about this mishap." Thomas Shelby motioned to his men. Both of them let go as Mr. Murphy shrugged off.

Thomas Shelby clapped a hand on Mr. Murphy's shoulder. The old man only appeared half as afraid as he actually was. "You're going to go home to your family, and leave all this behind, understand?" _slightly anticlimactic_. "And if I hear that you've failed to pay your affairs properly again, we're going to a have a big problem, you and I. Are we clear?" _There it is_ , Rain cheered mentally.

Mr. Murphy nodded with a slight pout, failing to meet his eyes. Mr. Shelby then sent him off.

"Good day, Mr. Shelby." And he shot a glare at Rain.

Once the air was clear, Thomas Shelby then turned to face Rain.

The anxiety found its way back to her legs once his killing eyes met hers. Thomas Shelby treaded forward with his hands behind his impressively clean coat. He stopped a few paces away from Rain. It felt as though he were scanning through her whole being, not just her ragged clothing.

"How is it that a girl like you," he addressed her, "is working for a man like him, when you've got a brain like that?" all while pulling out a cigarette and a lighter.

Rain stood up taller, no longer concerned with hiding her female assets, no matter how small they were. "Anyone who _can_ finds a way to live." She uttered.

"Does that include spending nights gambling in the dark?" he lit the end of the cigarette while it sat between his lips. A rush of smoke filled the vacant cold air. "Conducting games for biddings, hustling my employees, sometimes near my establishments." Mr. Shelby closed the feet of space between them. "All this, and just a month before my wedding night?" he questioned, although it wasn't exactly meant to be answered by anyone.

Rain knew there was only one way this would end. She could simply run, but that would only end in her being chased by Mr. Shelby's men, who would most definitely catch her. She could kill herself right there, but she was too sane to do so. Either way, she was stuck. So she simply spoke.

"I didn't say they were all _moral_ ways to live."

A thread of smoke hit her face before the fucker actually _chuckled_ and turned towards Mr. Zhang. "You were right, Zhang."

"What's going on?" she asked, skeptical of both her boss and the Shelby boss.

"What does he pay you?" Mr. Shelby asked, back to his normal stoic self.

"Shit." Rain inquired, truthfully.

"Well then, I'll triple it . . . twice." He stated, nonchalantly.

Rain crossed her arms over her chest, careful not to show any interest. "And why would you pay me a sum like that?"

"You'd be working as _my_ treasurer, Miss. Kinsley."


	3. Romani

A young girl always wondered why bad things often happened to her.

Her mother was never spoken about, and when she was fourteen her father had simply disappeared from her life. No note, no money, no goodbye. It was as though he had never existed. Thus, a delicate young girl was forced to work for her life, for Zhang. Counting was never a problem for her; it was often the hungry eyes she'd catch from male customers at Zhang's.

That's when she decided to give up all forms of femininity.

Her thick black hair grew unruly once she cut it short. Dirt constantly found its way to her small face. Her nail unkempt, trousers were tattered, pretty gowns were never even an option with the pay she was getting. She had lost her identity.

And so she became Rain.

And she had developed an entirely new world over the course of four years. She found a new world where she didn't have to worry about men shouting for her company, or the struggle to find work.

Though it wasn't an ideal way of living, it all led to Rain sitting in a shiny black car beside a well-known man wondering why, suddenly, something disturbingly good had happened.

"When you said I'd start today," Rain began as the drive rattled her bones, "You weren't lying."

Thomas Shelby steered the car beside her. He did not smile once as they drove farther from the Chinese Quarters and closer to his establishment.

"Why should good men lie?" He mentioned, eyes on the road.

"You saying you're a good man, Mr. Shelby?" Rain challenged. The fear she felt previously was completely gone. If he had recruited her for work, there's no way he'd kill her off for simply making conversation.

"Would you say otherwise, Miss. Kinsley?" he replied, no anger to be found.

"It's Rain, by the way," she looked out onto the street at baffled gapers and a grey sky. The shitty air never smelled so welcoming before. "And no. I wouldn't say so."

"Smart girl."

"May I ask why you decided to seek my aide in your business, Mr. Shelby, don't you have other good men to do your counting?"

"That may be true, Rain, but your former boss reckons you're quick with numbers, fastest he's ever seen."

 _If the bloke wanted to compliment me he should've done so when I still worked there._

"I also have a few . . . tasks for you in the future. It will require your night job skills."

"Hmm . . . " Rain hummed her comprehension. If God had given her this skill, she might as well put it in good use for a handsome pay.

"For now," Mr. Shelby slowed the car to a stop, "Let's introduce you to the family."

The heart of Shelby Enterprise was smaller than Rain had once imagined it to be. It was a humble shop from the outside, but there was much more excitement on the inside. From where Rain stood, near the cell door of that stood behind a large platinum safe, she could see everything; all the coins, documents, lists that were being passed across tables.

Men were often shouting out numbers and phrases while others quickly scribbled onto notepads. Some were scratching chalk onto a board, some were lounging with cigars perched in their mouths, and some were even having a drink at this godforsaken time of day.

What delighted her most was the sight of women. Women! Women working amongst the men, and they were dressed in clean gowns, such pretty clothes. They weren't chatted off by the men, or sitting in the corner. They worked amongst the rest, chiming in jokes here and there, interacting with them. Though there weren't as many women as the men, it joyed Rain to see them so relaxed while working.

Thomas Shelby had walked onward as Rain studied each element of his keep. The odd thing was, no one was staring as she walked through the length of the room. It was as if there was nothing foreign about her. Although, as Mr. Shelby led her deeper into the nest, she found herself under the scrutiny of an older woman who sat at a small table.

Rain froze, hands in the pockets of her trousers.

It was rather quiet in the back, though Rain could hear every thought running through the woman's mind.

She sat stiffly, with a cigarette in hand, pen frozen over paper in the other. She was of relation to Mr. Shelby, obviously, although her eyes were not that magnificent blue. They were a fierce brown, and they did not leave Rain's grey eyes.

"What's this?" she asked Mr. Shelby, in a tight voice.

A few other men walked into the secluded area. "Tommy!" The excited one asked. He seemed rather chipper. "What's going on?" His stance grew into a swaggering one as he laid eyes on Rain. The tall and lanky one stood solemnly beside the young one. These two were, of course, Mr. Shelby's brothers. They all bore the same eyes and lean bone structure.

But there was another who looked a bit off from the rest. He was slick and waltzed into the room without making any sound. Once finding his place beside the older woman, he caught sight of Rain.

It was Green Eyes. Michael.

Rain was quick to keep her face neutral, although, the boy really did need to learn how to do so a bit faster.

"Polly, boys, this is Rain Kinsley." He lit a cigarette. "She's going to be working for us now."

"That's a girl?" the young one scoffed. Then his eyes began to _really_ scan over Rain, more than once, while Michael only avoided her gaze. The older woman was doing a great job at burning a hole on Rain's face. She felt Polly's eyes were the heaviest.

"She's to work with the cash and coins, with the other men, when there aren't any specific assignments for her. Feel free to ask her of any financial assistance. I'm sure she can conjure the numbers without strain." Mr. Shelby addressed the young one. "John, you are not to fraternize with my employees, understand?"

"The hell he's not!" a younger woman walked through. Her accent was a bit stronger than the rest. She had dark curls and a pointed nose. The young woman made her way to John with an embrace that only made Rain more uncomfortable.

"Nice to meet you, Love. Call me Esme. Let me know if you'd be needing some breakfast. You seem a bit underfed." She said after releasing herself from John's mouth. If only Polly was as kind.

"I assume she's to do more than just counting our money, Tommy." The tall one mentioned.

"There will be a few jobs before the wedding I need to clear up, but for now, you all are to make her familiar with our establishment."

"How quick we are to let a stranger in, without any precautions, Tommy." Polly protested without raising her voice. It was as if she were challenging Mr. Shelby's decisions.

"Aunt Poll-" Mr. Shelby began, but she was quick to finish. Rain could feel the tension grow amongst the rest of the family members as she stood before Polly's scrutiny.

"-Where she can grab at the money and run. Maybe even sell information to another outsider for more than you're already giving her. I've heard of this one, " Her eyes met Rain again as she pointed her cigarette at her, "She's the one who steals from the rest of your employees out on the streets. What's to stop her from doing so under our own roof?"

This next part she spoke in a different tongue. It was slightly odd to hear after such a long time, but that swift modulated and sotto language is one Rain could never forget.

"I'm only half Chinese, Ma'am." Rain said this in Romani.

Every head in that room revolved straight to Rain's figure. She even got Polly's jaw to hang and Michael to finally look at her. It took everything inside of her not to crack a smile.

Esme was the first to break the silence. "Blinkin' Hell."

"My mother may be Chinese, but I am loyal to those whom _I_ trust, mind you. It has nothing to do with where a man is from." Rain transitioned back to English. "Or woman."

To her surprise, Polly stood up. Her face was a bit softer as she sauntered toward Rain. No one else dared to stop her. It seemed as though Rain was the most relaxed in that room.

She shot a grin at Michael once she caught him staring. He only narrowed his brows and winced at the pain it caused him. Rain spotted the bruises on his face: large blue and green clots to match his eyes. She wondered if he felt remorse for causing her bruises too.

Polly was now directly in front of Rain. She stood a bit taller than Rain, and her posture was stronger as well. _She smells amazing,_ Rain thought _, how could someone smell so good?_

"Who . . . the fuck are you?" she asked, searching for something in Rain's grey eyes.

"Rain Kinsley." She said steadily.

"Your mother?" Polly questioned.

"Xue Chen. She immigrated here twenty years ago."

"Where is she now?" the grave look never gave way.

Rain shrugged. "I've never seen her in my life. Dead, maybe?"

"Father?"

"William Kinsley."

"And how is he Gypsy?"

"His mother was daughter of a small Gypsy King down in France. She escaped to England years ago and fell in love with a baker."

"Where is your father now?"

Again, Rain shrugged and shook her head slightly. "Might as well be dead." She said coldly.

Polly finally looked at her, not scanning or analyzing Rain. She felt something between the two of them. Recognition?

Rain finally felt Polly's bonds release her as she carefully retreated to the table. She found her pen again and began writing something down. The silence prevailed until she spoke again.

"Go home." She sighed. Rain looked straight at Polly. "And come back tomorrow with a washed face and clean clothes, looks like you just had a toss in the streets."

Rain exhaled a small laugh.

"You don't have to wear trousers anymore, no one here is going to touch you."

"If you don't mind, Ma'am, I'd like to keep at it. I'm rather used to the freedom of trousers and a simple shirt." Rain asked.

"Very well," Polly breathed, "make sure to buy clean, fitted ones. I won't have our new treasurer dress as a beggar. Esme collect a few pounds from the safe for Miss. Kinsley."

"Please, Ma'am, call me Rain." She insisted.

"Ah, yes." Polly nodded. "For Rain." Half a smile, Rain could live with that.


	4. The Whole Truth

"You can come out of hiding, boy. I don't bite." Rain had been walking across the grimy streets for almost ten minutes. She could sense a tail the moment she stepped out of the Shelby establishment.

It was Michael.

He walked ahead of her and led her into another alley; his honey brown hair gleamed in whatever sunlight could escape through the cracks of the miserable grey clouds. Rain wondered if he felt the same chill down his spine as she did. It all felt too familiar, except they were in broad daylight and no one wanted to rip each other's guts out . . . yet.

The alley was rather empty. A few stray animals strolled about and besides that the two were completely alone. And yet, the boy was still nervous, not in his posture, but in his eyes. Though when Rain seemed to catch his odd expression, Michael quickly collected himself.

He was quite good at reading others.

"I wanted to apologize about the other night." He began.

Rain stood dumbfounded. She had gathered he'd pressure her into keeping the details regarding whoever fucked his face up to herself, but _this!?_ This was a real treat.

"For what? We both suffered a rough beatin'." She jibed.

"No, I meant- I wouldn't have-"

"What?" Rain interrupted. "You wouldn't have hit me if you'd known I had tits?" she exclaimed as if she'd been greatly offended.

Michael's expression quickly grew flustered, "No, not at all! I mean-" Rain wondered if anyone ever conjured up this kind of giddy behavior from him. It seemed unnatural, but she found it rather amusing.

"Quit stammering! I'm only joking." She said in between a laugh.

"I wanted to give you this, as well." He pulled out a crumpled ball of clothing that was tucked inside his well-pressed jacket. It was a dirty old cap. Rain had recognized the filthy, torn hat the moment it came into sight. How could she have forgotten about it for so long? "You left it back there in the alleyway." He urged her to take it.

Rain reached for it, only to watch him lift it out of her reach, she faltered, raising a brow. Michael matched her expression, only adding a clever smirk to his own. The cunt _smiled_ after fooling her.

"You know, I was going to let our little quarrel go, but now I'm thinking otherwise."

"This hat is of value to you." It wasn't a question.

Rain shoved her hands into her pockets. "What do you want?" she practically spat as a look of disgust plagued her dirty face.

Michael held it back down to waist level and studied the material with his fingers. "It seems pretty worn. It's an old edition, and foreign. No factory in Birmingham, let alone England makes them."

"Aside from assisting the management of an illegal empire, do you fathom over each bloody hat you encounter?" she taunted. "It's just a fuckin' hat, now give it back."

"If it's just a hat," he inquired with an introspective declaration, "why are you so eager to retrieve it?" Michael spun the hat underneath his finger a few times before handing it back to Rain. She practically snatched it out of his hand and placed it atop her unkempt hair.

"Was it your father's hat?"

Rain's silence was enough to answer his question.

"You stated previously that your grandmother moved here and married the baker," Michael began to prod forward until he was only a foot away from Rain.

"What about it?" she asked skeptically.

"Has your family lived here ever since?"

"Of course-"

"-But how could a man, born and raised in England, acquire a hat made only in _France?_ A hat that was only in production at the time of your birth?" His lips were just a few inches away from her own, his voice a whisper. "Sounds like you're not telling the whole truth, Miss. Kinsley."

Rain chewed on this inside of her cheeks, fighting to keep her rage contained. "And if I were to _deny_ the fact that it belongs to my father, your theory suddenly becomes useless." she delivered in a calm, menacing tone.

Michael drew back a few paces. No sign of defeat, but the darkness was gone. It came and went in an instant. "I won't tell anyone, if that's what your worried about."

"Good. There's nothing to hide." Rain crossed her arms over her chest.

The boy reached into his coat pocket for a cigarette and a lighter, "If you say so, Miss. Kinsley." He lit the end and pocketed the lighter in one swift motion. "Is that even your real name? _Rain?"_

Rain plodded forward, arms still in place, and back straight. She squinted at his brooding figure. "You blend in well." She criticized, "You may dress like them and make threats like them, but I reckon I see right through it all." Rain stopped directly in front of Michael, just as he had before. He blew the smoke from his lips above her head before leaning down to meet her eyes.

"Is that so?" he asked, perfectly tranquil.

"Undoubtedly so. Take the other night for example; a real Shelby would've had no trouble dropping a beaten girl into the hands of your boss. Your friend seemed to have the right idea, isn't that why you let me go?" she scoffed at his silence as he took in another long drag. "And it's a shame, for I ended up in your boss' hands anyway. Seems to me your friend is more of a Shelby than you are."

"That's where you're wrong, Miss. Kinsley." He gathered himself, "I'm not a Shelby," and released a gust of white smoke from his lips. "I'm Michael Gray."

"And I'm the bloody Queen, yet it makes no difference. It seems as though we're both imposters, Mr. Gray."

"In that case," Michael Gray tossed the cigarette onto the sordid ground of the alleyway before walking off, "best keep your story straight before someone, who's not as compassionate as me, finds out."


	5. First Week

She was the same girl, yet something was quite different about the new treasurer of Shelby Company Limited. Polly would watch as the young girl walked into the crowded room on time and leave an empty room each day for the first week.

As Polly had instructed, Rain had gone out to purchase new clothes. The fitted clothes were more flattering on her slim figure, albeit the dark trousers and the collarless shirt weren't exactly meant for women. Her pale skin and black hair seemed to glow once she appeared fully bathed; her grey eyes no longer seemed like two diamonds trapped amongst filth. Polly didn't even know she _had_ freckles, _mistook them for dirt_. The girl certainly _did_ have a way of carrying herself around the room, chatting with each member, forming some form of bond, all while making rounds and storing numbers into her archive of thoughts.

Not once did Polly find her keeping notes and writing out numbers, and yet her calculations were always recorded one hundred percent correctly at the end of each day.

"Who's that?" Ada had asked, placing a stack of papers beside Polly's files, wrenching her out of her thoughts. Her niece comfortably sat in a chair next to her, with her sharp blue eyes still on the new girl.

"She certainly is different." Ada mused. "Almost mistook her for a boy if it weren't for that pretty face."

Polly realized she'd been caught staring and turned back to her work. "Tommy hired a new treasurer." Her pen was already racing across parchment.

"Really? It seems like she's known everyone here for _years_ , and she's only been here a week?" Ada inquired.

"That's exactly why she's been recruited." Polly finally met eyes with her young niece, "She's a smart girl, but foolish enough to fall into Tommy's hands."

"Does that mean you're foolish, Aunt Poll?" Ada teased.

"Of course not. I run this business just as much as Tommy, I knew what I was getting into." Polly searched for something in her writings, but found that nothing made sense until she finally raised her sight to Rain again. The young girl was speaking with Lizzie and they were both laughing at some unknown subject. Polly's aged eyes ached, suddenly, as she realized what pain would follow this young girl's life. Her genuine happiness would soon diminish, only to be buried under a darkness that already swallowed her son's heart.

"She had a choice . . . and I have a feeling she chose wrong."

"I doesn't seem that exciting," Lizzie declared. "You've got to cross an entire sea, yea? Imagine the piles of shit in that one ship where you're surrounded by thousands of fucking people who you wish you could bloody cut." She spoke as she copied down a list of Rain's recordings from earlier that day. "Doesn't sound appealing to me."

Rain had relieved herself from her duties as Head Treasurer once Lizzie had her entrapped in a debate. She was a nice lady, Rain had declared. Her large eyes were filled with life and experiences Rain would never know of (good and bad), and her towering structure only emphasized how much Rain liked her. She demanded to be heard and seen.

"That's the point, Liz." Rain protested as she sat across from her, feet crossed on the nearly empty table. Most of the men had left, for the sun was nearly gone. "You've got to endure all that shit and misery in order to reach the new world! Don't you see? It symbolizes American freedom! It's filled with opportunities, land, work, open plains that stretch on for miles-"

"-We've got all that here, right in England. How are you kids getting all this information anyway? It's just mindless talk. This is a cruel world, Rain, riches and land don't just fall into your lap without a catch."

"I think she's right." A smaller figure crept out from the back of the keep.

Rain had never seen this woman before. She appeared friendly, at first, but Rain had a feeling there was something aggressive about her assertion.

"If there are still people rushing to get out of Europe, there must be _something_ America is doing right. While we sit here, witnessing this migration, we should be questioning the faults of our government and why our people are so eager to leave." She stated with heart.

"You see, Lizzie, even our friend here agrees with me." Rain addressed the woman who stood at the edge of the table. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, we haven't met before." She removed her feet from the table and stood up to shake her hand. "I'm-,"

"-Rain. I'm Ada Shelby." She smiled.

"I should've guessed." Rain shrugged. _It was the blue eyes._

"Aunt Poll tells me you're a genius with numbers," they shook hands firmly, "but she didn't tell me you were political." her eyes raged with excitement.

Rain sat back in her casual position. "If anything, I'm nowhere near as educated on the topic as you, Ma'am, if what Lizzie told me is true."

"I'm sure anything Lizzie had to say about my political views was _not_ delightful to hear about." Ada raised her eyebrows at a smug Lizzie. She reached for her coat that lay perched on one of the empty chairs. Polly even made her way up to their table while throwing on her sleek trench.

"Nonsense! It was rather intriguing." Rain stated. "Not what I'm used to, but I'm open to converse on the matter."

"Well, Rain, if you ever have the chance, we _must_ have drink and discuss more about this. The baby is probably havin' a fuss with the maid." She draped her stylish coat over her frail shoulders.

"It was nice meetin' you, Lady Shelby." Rain called out as Ada headed toward the back door, her heels clicking in the distance.

"Likewise, Lady Rain!" she teased before exiting the building.

"Goodnight, Lizzie." Polly started; she halted at the table, eyeing their work. "Rain." Polly nodded in her direction, before walking off, head held high. Her expression was unreadable.

"Good night, Ma'am." Rain voiced, cautious if she had to say anything else before the door echoed its creeks. She couldn't help but decipher why Polly looked rather shaken.

 _Oh well._

Rain stretched her back along the structure of her chair. Once she regained a healthy posture, Rain noticed Lizzie and herself were the only one's left. It was almost hauntingly quiet in the office. The lack of rushed speech, laughing, and business talk almost seemed surreal. It was odd how quickly Rain had grown accustomed to life amongst the Peaky Blinders. However, she felt the inevitable form of treachery slowly creeping up behind her. When was Mr. Shelby going to present her with a challenging task? All _this_ , the calculating of statistics, rates, income, it was all too easy. She missed the thrills of her nightlife, only slightly, but it was the rush she loved.

"Are we done for the day, Lizzie?" Rain rolled her neck in circles to lessen the tension in her body and mind.

"Yes, my little doll." Lizzie closed that enormous book she was writing in and stood up to stretch, her voice did so as well, "We can leave now."

"Actually, we're not quite finished yet."

Rain turned to the source of the voice. He came from behind her and stood before his office door. The name "Michael Gray" was quite visible, too visible. Actually, Rain felt it was almost gaudy the way he stood near it. Or maybe that's the way she always felt whenever Michael Gray was near.

Her presence in the office was always endeared by the other workers, but it was hard not to notice how strained she grew if Michael were to make an appearance. She often ignored his presence entirely. And Michael seemed to be the only one who faced Rain's unnaturally cold behavior.

"Tomorrow's payday. It's time you learn the task." He seemed just as tired as Rain, but a bit less vexed than she. _Of course he would take the time to teach me something on the busiest day of the week!_ "You're free to go, Lizzie. Good night." _OF COURSE SHE'S ALLOWED TO FUCKING LEAVE!_

"Excellent."


	6. Trust

Michael sat in his large chair behind his desk. Rain had found herself slumped in the chair across from his desk. Everything was so pristine and matched in Michael's office. Nothing seemed out of place in the dimly lit room, nothing except Rain. She had shifted her seat so she wouldn't have to look directly at his vexing face.

He had been going over the tasks of how to properly distribute the pay each member should receive, where to record them, as well as how she should sum it all up before deducting it from the business' balance. More and more instructions after each explanation, it was only furthering Rain's descent into insanity. What made it worse was the man who threatened her safety, just a week ago, was now casually informing her on how one should keep record of the payroll.

As he went on an on, Rain's eyes followed the shifting hands of the clock that sat upon Michael's desk. The _tick tock_ of the device grew louder and louder as it neared the number 9. It was the latest she had ever stayed behind, she felt so trapped in this smaller office. Rain inhaled deeply as the final tock of the clock shifted the hand directly over the 9.

Rain sat up in her seat and crossed one leg over the other. "Am I free to go now, Mr. Gray?" she exhaled.

Michael shifted his gaze. He finally _looked_ at her without throwing up a slew of mindless information. "You haven't even tried doing it yourself, Rain."

"I assure you that your prolonged explanation was enough to last me a lifetime." She clenched the arms of her cushioned chair as a smirk appeared on Michael's grim face. His bruises were finally clearing. The sharp edges of his face were more prominent, only intensifying the darkness he possessed. Michael closed the record book and leaned forward in his seat.

"Why is it that you can't stand to sit near me for another second?" he questioned, eyes hungry for a game.

Rain leaned forward in her seat as well, placing an elbow upon his large desk and resting her chin atop her fist. If he were looking to play, _she'd gladly partake_.

"I don't enjoy the company of untrustworthy men." Rain said with a smile.

"What makes you think I'm not worthy enough to trust?" Michael pulled out two rolled cigarettes from his drawer.

They were oddly shaped, but Rain took the one he offered and lit it between her lips as she leaned back once again. The smoke was different, thick and potent as she inhaled deeply. Rain stretched her neck back, holding her breath in for a moment before blowing the opaque vapor towards the ceiling. Her short black hair fell over part of her face as she dazedly trailed the smoke toward Michael's figure. Fire raged in his eyes as he blew out a soft wisp of hazy silk.

" _One_ , because you failed to inform me that this isn't tobacco." Rain studied the rolled paper between her fingers.

"You lit it yourself, Rain." Michael tested, voice low. "I've done nothing wrong."

" _Two_ , there's something off about you, Mr. Gray." Rain stated, slowly ascending from her slumped position onto both feet. She rambled lazily; one hand trailed the perimeter of his desk, cigarette in the other. "I have a feeling _you're_ not very fond of my presence either." She theorized while peering through the blinds of the window. The night was here.

"You've managed to win over everyone else's favor this past week." He inquired, "What difference does it make if _I_ don't?"

 _So, he had been watching._

"Ah, see!?" she expressed, slowly treading toward his chair. "I can't quite decipher it. I can't tell if I'm scared of your twisted thoughts . . . or drawn to them."

"A smart man would keep his distance." He stressed, turning his chair to face Rain as she sauntered over to him.

She sat atop his desk with her legs crossed, inches away from Michael. Rain took in a long drag. "You forget," she exhaled, "I'm no man."

"Trust me, I haven't forgotten." Michael assured her in a hoarse voice.

" _Three_. Which makes me wonder why you haven't spoken to Mr. Shelby about _my_ untrustworthiness." Rain hinted his theory about her hat, which she hadn't worn since he had confronted her about it. "As long as I'm under his protection, none of you," she motioned around the room with her dying cigarette, "can touch me . . . Unless you've already done so, meaning even the truth about my background isn't important enough for your boss to hurl me out into the streets for the dogs to finish off. Not even under the authority of your mother . . . Polly."

Michael reclined in his chair, eyes studying Rain as she slowly blew out another gust of smoke. She'd never seen him so relaxed; even the collar of his shirt was undone. However, Rain could sense that rising tension. He wanted to do more than just play, but she knew he couldn't. Rain took in the last of her strange cigarette before blowing the mist over Michael's provocative expression.

"Your boss needs me," she leaned in towards him slightly, burning out the stub on the ashtray near his hand, "So I'm here to stay, you see, whether we trust each other or not." Rain's voice was almost a whisper.

There was no telling what would've happened if Rain had allowed Michael to close that space between them. He had shifted from his seat closer to his desk, closer to Rain. She could smell his clean scent, feel his tight exhale hit her face.  
"You're free to go, Miss. Kinsley." He breathed, only a slight strain in his voice, but Rain caught it.

Rain smiled wickedly, knowing she had won this game.

That was more than enough to satisfy her ongoing thoughts. She slipped off of his desk, not noticing how lightheaded she was, but she regained her sense of balance and made it to the door without seeming like a deranged child.

"Goodnight, Michael."


	7. The Plan

Two weeks of complete nothing.

It was the same process, day in and day out, for two full weeks. Rain thought she'd eventually go mad amongst the lack of excitement. Yes, the eccentric Shelby brothers often visited the office, Esme and Lizzie were always fun to talk to (and Ada would drop by for short periods at a time), but there was nothing new.

The worst part of her shifts was dodging Michael's solemn attitude. The whole office went quiet with fear once the two of them crossed paths. One minute Rain would be completely engrossed in a lighthearted conversation with Fin, the youngest Shelby brother, and in the next her voice and mood would fall drastically as Michael weaved in and out of his own office.

If it didn't look like Rain was doing anything productive, he'd condescendingly question whether or not she completed a certain task. Rain would then glare in his direction and unwillingly excuse herself from her conversation and perform the task he indirectly _commanded her_ to complete. This, of course, furthered Rain's inclination to finish her treasurer duties by the end of each day so that she wouldn't have to stay after hours with _him_ as her only company.

The hours Rain took up prevented her from scheming in the night. Honestly, it was like going through a withdrawal. She would be too tired to perform any illegal acts in the night by the end of a workday, despite the fact that she was prohibited to do so by order of Thomas Shelby himself.

After all she had endured, Mr. Shelby _finally_ sent for Rain's presence. A roar of happiness escaped her lips once Lizzie informed her that she was to meet the Shelby's at their pub. Rain didn't let one second pass; she had left Lizzie in midsentence before she practically burst through the doors of the office and into the smoggy outdoors.

Rain was dancing on air as she strolled down the busy streets. Lord knows how happy she was to finally get an assignment. Truthfully, leaving the office while the sun was still out (or what sunlight was visible through those bloody clouds) was enough to burst Rain's heart.

The pub was furnished impeccably. Stepping into the bar was like falling into a whole different country. It was as if no one could manage to trail in any dirt or horseshit from what lay a few feet outside. The walls were ornate with gilded designs, along them swayed crimson velvet curtains that draped so elegantly around the tinted windows of the bar. The ceiling seemed to go on for miles and descending from them were multiple gold and glittery chandeliers. Every wooden surface seemed to shine without a hint of sunlight.

 _Is this even a pub?_

It was rather quiet and barren for it was only the afternoon, still Rain wondered how lively this place would be at night; the music, the laughs, _and the drinks_.

A barmaid found her gaping around the establishment. "To your right, Miss. Kinsley." She called out kindly.

Rain shook herself out of her wonder and adjusted her hair. She often forgot that without her hat her black hair would sit quite wildly. It was a boyish cut, although it was in style for women as well.

A large ugly man guarded the door to the far right. He was doing a spectacular job at frightening Rain. He had opened the door for her, which seemed odd for a man his size. Nonetheless, she thanked him, causing him unnecessary confusion.

Inside was a private room, brightly lit. A cushioned booth stretched along the walls. On it sat Mr. Shelby, Arthur, Ada, and Polly at the end. Rain silently greeted Fin, who stood to her right beside his brother John. Once the door was closed, she caught sight of that brooding figure to her left leaning against the embellished wall. Michael Gray.

 _Well, it was nice while it lasted._

"You've summoned me." She said, shoving her hands into her pockets.

"Nice of you to join us, Rain." Mr. Shelby began. "You clean up nice."

"Thank you?" she replied hesitantly after blankly staring at Mr. Shelby's austere expression for a quick moment. Catching Fin smirk only slightly improved her spirit. He rarely ever showed any sign of emotion. Come to think of it, anytime Rain was conversing with Fin it seemed as though she were the only one talking. Not that she minded.

"I suppose you know why you're here?" Mr. Shelby questioned before downing a glass of whiskey.

 _At this bloody hour?_ "You've hired me for my skills. I assume you'd like to put your investment into good use."

"Ah, the Card Counter." Arthur stated with amusement. "The shit you put us through," he pointed his cigar at her, "almost had me self in tears once John told me you was a girl. I figured he was takin' a piss." He laughed gutturally.

"All right, Arthur," Polly waved him off, "all jokes aside now."

"Pol's right." Mr. Shelby interjected. "It's time to discuss business."

"I still don't know why _I'm_ here." Ada interjected. She sat miserably between her aunt and brother, arms crossed over her chest, eyes raging more than ever. Rain came to know that Ada preferred to steer clear from the family business, but never understood why. There was so much passion and fire in her spirit, this life was perfect for her. Of course, it was _her_ decision, and Rain respected that.

"All in good time, Ada." Mr. Shelby reassured. "But first," he pulled out a cigarette and lighter from his fitted waistcoat. "We must discuss that matter of Jack Bowery Crimson."

"That American casino owner?" John inquired casually, his back against the wall. Rain figured John was only capable of seeming fully relaxed or wildly insane, never in-between.

"What does his business have to do with ours?" Polly asked offensively, cigarette in hand.

"Crimson provides for speakeasies in New York." Michael stated, voice neutral. Rain refrained from facing him, though she felt his eyes burning her back.

"That's right, Michael." Mr. Shelby jabbed his cigarette in Michael's direction while scanning everyone else in the room, as if he were subtly projecting his desire for everyone to try and act more intuitive like him. "Just a few months ago, Mr. Bowery Crimson opened up shop in America. Those dry Yankees buy up any kind of booze they can get their hands on, especially," he paused, eyes meeting Rain, "if they are sold for a few _cents_ cheaper than ours. And now, he's thrown up a successful casino not five kilometers away from our own." Mr. Shelby took a long drag of his cigarette. Rain pondered if he'd get to the point soon.

"That's bad for business. He's got his shipments crossing paths with ours. There have been reports regarding a handful of our cargo bursting into flames out on sea on more than one expedition. Our traces lead back to Mr. Crimson."

"Is there a point to all this, Tommy?" Ada retorted. Rain was beginning to like her even more, if that were possible. "Some bloke is fucking with your business, just fuck him right back like you always do." she urged impatiently.

"That's exactly what we're going to do, Ada." Mr. Shelby delighted, "You see unlike us, Mr. Crimson keeps his funds and documents in a rather indiscreet location, if my sources are true. Once we harness his money, his licenses, and official records, then that's the last we hear from Jack bloody Crimson. " He took another achingly long drag. "Where do you think the safe is, lads?"

"Inside his casino, obviously." Rain answered without thinking. Just as on the day of her recruitment, all eyes were on her. Mr. Shelby waited, as if he knew where Rain was going with this. _It was rather simple,_ Rain thought. "You need me to cause a distraction with my counting. I reckon while all eyes are on a miraculous winner of a card game, your boys are to infiltrate his safe. I somehow escape once another distraction is put into place for the robbers to get out safely. And then we all run home richer than kings."

Utter silence. Rain waited for someone to make noise, whatever sounds it may be. Polly's vacant gawking only increased Rain's discomfort. _Is there anything I could possibly do to further this woman's hatred for me?_ The only matter that comforted her was Mr. Shelby's unlikely grin, and even _that_ could've been a bad thing.

"Well done, Rain." He applauded, returning Rain's spirit. "Except there's something you've missed in that equation." And there it left again.

 _How could there possibly be anything more!?_

" _You_ won't be playing . . . Michael will."

Her mind, body, and spirit all left the earth in that split second of silence while Rain stood there, hands in pockets, face unreadable.

"No." Polly commanded gravely.

"Why can't I go in alone?" Rain questioned as Michael swore under his breath.

"You're fucking joking, Tommy?" Arthur laughed.

"No, I'm quite serious." Mr. Shelby said matter-of-factly. "Not all men are as well-minded as us, lads. Do you think they won't question an exotic female making winnings on one of their busiest nights faster than we could break in? But say she was to _accompany_ a strapping young man; we'd have enough time to rob that bastard clean. All eyes would be on them, which would bring more men away from guarding the safe, but no one would question Michael until the game is done to avoid a scene."

"So what does _my son_ have to do with any of it!?" Polly protested, rushing out of her seat as if it were made of ice.

"Polly-" both Michael and Mr. Shelby started.

"-No. I won't have him mixed up in this shit. Why can't one of your boys handle it? Why not John?" she argued.

"Yeah, why can't I do it?" John complained, as if it tainted his manhood.

Rain didn't know what vexed her more, the fact that Polly openly displayed what little regard she had for her safety, or that John was _willing_ to have Rain act as his whispering whore for a whole night.

"I don't trust anyone more than my family." Mr. Shelby began, "Crimson's men have seen John and Arthur before. Besides, I need you two running the robbery. And Michael-,"

"I look nothing like a Shelby." Michael explained, he appeared the least stirred up amongst them, _but when did he ever show any emotion amongst his family?_ "They'd never suspect us."

Rain finally turned to him. _Was he actually fucking going with it?_

"I'll do it." Michael declared cunningly.

 _Fuck me._

Polly threw her hands up in frustration, eyes wide in astonishment. Both her and Rain were tormented over it, but Rain easily strangled her displeasure.

"Not with that fucking attitude." Mr. Shelby shook his head.

"What do you mean?" Michael questioned, he was unexpectedly thrown off by his cousin's dispute.

"I mean the both of you." Mr. Shelby said.

Rain's ears grew hot. _What have I done wrong?_

"How are you going to fool a mob filled casino with that black cloud of anger forming whenever you're in a room together?"

 _Oh_.

Mr. Shelby raised his dying cigarette between the two of them. "Fix it."

They both silently agreed to Thomas Shelby's terms.

"And what am _I_ to be doing in all this?" Ada chimed in.

Mr. Shelby smothered his cigarette on the ashtray. "Did you think I'd send her into a Crimson casino dressed like that. They wouldn't even let her in." He faced Rain and said, "No offense, Miss. Kinsley." Though she heard no sympathy in his voice. "Ada, between now and next week, you are to train and apprentice our Rain in the ways of a modern woman. One who can walk and act properly and while wearing whatever's latest in fashion. I don't care how much it costs, just know that this has to be perfect. Crimson's men can spot a fake a mile away. And when the job is done you will all be paid handsomely." He finished casually, as if he conducted robberies as a day job.

Rain couldn't read Ada's face, but she pondered, and that was enough to know that she was willing to do this task.

"I guess it might be fun," she shrugged, relaxing her body before smiling at Rain. "What do you say, Rain?" she asked. "This _is_ all in your hands. You're the one with the brains."

"Ada's right, Rain." Mr. Shelby nodded. "I'm counting on _your_ skills on that night. If you agree now, you can't back out later. This plan is in motion if you say yes."

" _She_ gets a say in this matter?" Polly questioned bitterly.

Rain found only hatred written in Polly's expression, but there was nothing she did that wasn't capable of irritating Polly anyway. She wasn't the reason Michael was ready to risk his life for this business. That was not _her_ decision. Rain had nothing to lose. So she didn't think twice before answering lightheartedly.

"Fuck it."


	8. The Wager

_When did drinking ever strictly become a man's business?_

Rain held on to her last bottle for the week. Isiah offered her the whiskey the moment she mentioned her probation set by Ada.

Her new friend stood outside the Shelby's pub with her. Though they began their acquaintance with weary eyes and guards up, the two became unlikely mates within a few quick hours of drinking. And on that night they stood in the very first place they met, attempting to get drunk for the very last time. At least Rain was.

"You mean she won't let ya drink anythin'?" He asked after he knocked back a shot, completely baffled by Ada's teaching methods.

Isiah handed her the bottle as she shook her head. "Ada's great and all, but this is going to drive me mad. I can't sleep without a drink, mate, you know how it is for blokes like us."

"Yeah, I hear you, Rain. But trust me, it's worth the money." He slurred subtly. Rain was made aware that no matter how much Isiah drank he managed to remain light on his feet. This was his sixth shot and it was the first he began to slur all night.

"Cheers to that, my friend." Rain indulged in another swig, biting her teeth and grunting after it slid down her throat, leaving behind a burning sensation that unfurled all over.

"So will you take up a dress, Rainy?" he asked, pulling on her short hair playfully.

"I can't quite imagine myself in a dress." She fathomed.

"Why? Everyone else has."

Rain slammed her fist against Isiah's shoulder, pushing him further away as he dissolved into laughter.

"What!? It's true. You don't make it easier for yourself, walking around in those clothes now that everyone knows you're a girl." Isiah neared Rain once again. "The only reason no one's touched you is because Tommy ordered it." He approached her slack frame in a collected stride. "That don't mean _you_ have to behave."

He was an interesting boy. Rain could never get enough of his intense conduct, his sly grin, and playful attitude. Isiah was more talkative than any other blinder she had met. He certainly wasn't the most restraint, although John was ahead of him in that category, but he knew when to fuck off.

"I'm sure you would like that." Rain toyed in a sultry voice. Before he could go any further, she held up the bottle of whiskey between them.

Isiah gladly took it. His full attention was back on the drink. He was much more susceptible to booze than women, _but aren't all men?_

"Aren't you afraid?" Isiah asked after a silent moment of pondering. Once again, he handed her the bottle.

Rain swung her head side to side while pouting. "Should I be?" she asked, mostly to herself.

"It's your first job, love. You could easily fuck up and get cut." He laughed.

"It's reassuring to know you have faith in me." Rain smiled, and couldn't stop for she was starting to feel a bit more relaxed and secure in herself. The tension on her mind drifted away after downing some more whiskey.

She held the bottle up in the chilly air. "Let us pray to the Almighty that I don't get my brains blasted all over the bloody poker table!"

Isiah howled in the night, "Amen!" causing Rain to laugh all girlish. Her laughter faltered once a dark figure came strolling up to them amongst a group of Mr. Shelby's boys who stood nearby.

"Ey, Mickey!" Isiah called out, "Come join us, mate! This be her last night playin' with poison. Let's show her how it's done."

Suddenly, Rain wasn't feeling so drawn to the whiskey. Either that or it was because Michael eased up in front of her and took the bottle from her hand, downing almost two shots worth of whiskey. He did so with the slightest grunt, all without breaking eye contact with Rain. She couldn't find it in herself to sport a neutral facade once he returned the bottle, only because it was harder to conceal her distaste after a few drinks.

A misplaced smile formed on his face. "Lads," he greeted them, "what brings us outside on this chilly night?" he asked, leaning his back on the other wall of the alley, across from Isiah and Rain.

"Last time I checked, you weren't invited." Rain shoved the whiskey bottle into Isiah's chest.

"Come on now, Rainy Day!" Isiah urged. He showcased that playful grin. "The boss man wants us all to find the light. You know, make amends."

"Isiah's right." Michael toyed. "You should listen to him more." he stated.

Rain's attitude failed to brighten up. She stood with her arms crossed, one leg up against the wall, although it was getting harder to do so after inhaling whiskey all night.

"See that, Rain?" Isiah pointed out, "It's your last night on the drink, why not end the fuckin' fightin' tonight as well, yeah? So we can get the job done before payday."

Something magnificently thrilling lit up in Rain's intoxicated mind.

"Isiah _is_ right." Rain gleamed. She pushed away from the wall loosely and ambled to the center of the alleyway, facing Michael. He carefully assessed what she was implying. She could see him reading through her. "Why not end it all tonight?" Rain began to roll up the sleeves of her white shirt.

"You can't be serious?" Rain heard Isiah mutter in excitement after a moment of processing the situation.

"We didn't have a chance to finish our game, Michael." She didn't stray from Michael's analyzing expression. She challenged him to flinch, to look away. And yet, she ached to bruise up that pretty face all over again. The warmth in her stomach traveled to her arms and fists once she shoved them into her pockets and spread her legs apart. "Don't hold back this time."

The lamppost from afar shined dimly over the alley, but it was bright enough to display that villainous face. Michael didn't make a sound. He only unbuttoned his vest and slowly made his way to the center of the alleyway, a few feet away from Rain's relaxed figure. Michael threw his black vest at Isiah.

 _He must be as drunk as I am._

Rain's stomach jolted with anticipation.

"Why not make it a bit more interesting, Rain?" Michael mused while folding up his own sleeves, as if he were ready to conduct business.

"A wager?" Rain chimed. "What do you have in mind?"

"If I lose, I'll buy you a car with my own funds." he stated, not a hint of betrayal on his face.

Rain might have jumped at the opportunity if she weren't so skeptical of Michael Gray already. It wasn't the issue that he couldn't afford one, she was fully aware that anyone of the Shelby family could afford ten cars if they so desired. For the few weeks she'd been apart of their lives, Rain also learned of Michael Gray's mysterious conduct. It almost matched Mr. Shelby's secretive behavior, but Michael was just a hint more sinister. He must want something Rain would never agree to, or he was alarmingly sure of himself. Nonetheless, Rain raised her brows and coldly asked, "What would you get if I were to lose?"

He lingered in her curiosity purposefully as he neared her and tilted his head so that his lips were right by her ear. Michael spoke in a voice only Rain could hear and felt his breath brush against her neck. "I want to know the whole truth about Rain Kinsley."

"Why?" Rain demanded once he backed away.

"Those are the terms." he declared.

Rain held the weight he bore on her. Car . . . or tell Michael Gray _everything_ . . . but car! A bloody automobile! She questioned her morals silently, reading through every possible outcome.

"Any car?" she asked.

A twinkle of light glinted from Michael's green eyes. "Any car." he reassured.

"A _foreign_ car?" she challenged.

"If that's what you wish, but only if you win." he established.

"Any other terms I should know about?"

"Yes, actually, on the night of the robbery, I get to chose what dress you'll be wearing."

"Fuck you."

"You can fuck me in your new car if you win."

Isiah bursted into laughter beside them. "Are we about done here, ladies?"

Michael looked to Rain for answer. As much as she hated herself for involving her personal life in this gamble, she was more sure that she'd win. "Fine," she exhaled. And so Rain raised the palm of her hand to her mouth and spat on it before holding it out to Michael, he performed the same ritual the second she initiated the agreement and the two finalized their wager, both equally determined to win.

"Well!" Isiah joyed, "If this is really happening," Isiah bounced up and approached the both of them. "Ey, boys!" Isiah whistled loudly through his teeth, catching the attention of the other blinders nearby. "Round up for a game!" he announced.

Rain couldn't see, but she could hear the excited rush of voices growing nearer to where she and Michael refused to make any movement. Their audience began to circle around them, but Isiah waited no longer than a moment to make the rules clear. Rain heard the distinct noise of men exchanging bids and forming wagers. It was all too familiar, and slightly bittersweet since she wasn't the one to conduct this game.

"I don't want this to resemble anything close to a clean fight, ya hearin' me, lads!?" he authorized, leveling the almost finished whisky bottle between the two. "And not a fuckin' word of this to Tommy! Aye?" he addressed the handful of boys around them.

"AYE!" the all responded vigorously.

Once the men were riled up, Isiah slid between the two of them once more. "My money's on you, Rainy Day. Take no offense, Mickey, but did you see the way she messed you up that night?" The crowd of men chuckled.

Michael didn't appear displeased. It looked like nothing could bother him at this point. He stood inches away from Rain and she conjured up the strength to match his leering manner. He was always so quiet in front of other people, as if he knew a secret or what was to come. Rain waved away her inquiries and let the alcohol remove her from her inner thoughts.

 _It was time to play._

Isiah backed away from them, away from their range of motion before whistling provocatively in the night. Rain was astonished it chimed over all the encouraging bastards who came to watch.

"Go easy on her, Michael!" someone interjected as the two began to pace around each other. Rain held her arms up and squared her broad shoulders while Michael confidently held his arms behind his back. The cheers of approval seemed to fill him with more arrogance.

It was easier to block out the howling around her with the help of the whisky.

No matter, it was only Rain and Michael now.

It was obvious he wouldn't make the first move _, being the gentleman that he is._ So in one quick motion, Rain raced forward and threw a fist in the direction of his face. Michael swiftly obstructed her offense with his forearm, but her force was strong enough to shove him back a few paces.

The cheering faltered slightly as the boys grimaced in unison. That wave of noise rose and fell with each of Rain's strikes. She wasn't as strong as she was fast, but Michael refrained from hitting her. He only blocked and swiftly dodged her blows, smiling larger with each attempt, taunting Rain with her inability to have any affect on him as she grunted through her swings.

Rain grew impatient as he spun around, lunging from a left hook.

If the rise of the crowd's laughter indicated how much she was losing, Rain was considered near defeat. This _infuriated_ her for there wasn't a fucking scratch on either of them. Her breathing began to quicken as she worked up a sweat.

Once she steadied herself and repositioned her arms, Rain was beginning to think most of the boys here were waiting for her to tire out and fall. All their bets lay with Michael.

 _This was easy money to them._

But then why would Isiah bet on her?

Rain cocked her head. She thought back to their first fight and gears began to shift.

If they wanted a show, she'd give them one.

All ferocity aside, Rain strolled forward, fists situated. Michael anticipated another round of strikes to deflect. The boys that stood behind him matched his imperious smug. Once she walked halfway through the clearing, Rain started with a bounce and _bolted._

The increased speed only multiplied her force once she bombarded straight into Michael's abdomen. The impact was abrupt but effective! Rain stormed him into the astonished group of boys behind him. Once his balance was nonexistent, Rain anchored back. The boys behind Michael shoved him back into the ring before he could fall on his ass. Rain used her momentum to thrash a hard one clear on his spotless face. The collision forced Michael back a few paces rendering his stance completely unguarded. Rain took the joyous opportunity to employ an attack on his lower abdomen. It wasn't enough to fracture anything, but it definitely knocked the air out of him.

Michael's dumfounded expression was beyond rewarding. The first blood spilled onto the begrimed pavement where Michael crouched. He stood up carefully, studying Rain as if this was what he was waiting for.

Once again, Rain found her stance and balanced back and forth on the balls of her feet. She threw her arms up and raised her brows at Michael.

 _Come and play._

The instigating crowd lowered their howling. The response to her attack shifted the tone of the fight. It was getting serious. Their money was potentially at stake. The alcohol in her system pushed her to laugh aloud, it made her feel lighter.

Rain was quick on her feet. Michael drew closer to her, and to her surprise, he threw an offensive arm up, but avoiding it was like child's play. Before he could bash her left shoulder, Rain rapidly sidestepped to the right, but Michael hooked her right shoulder just as she shifted. The force ricocheted down her entire spine, torso, and found its way back to her shoulder within seconds. Although the pain was quick to follow, the offense threw her guard up. She was ready for the next one. One by one she deflected his every move.

 _This was too easy._ Except that was Michael's intention. He had backed her up into a wall. Belatedly, Rain felt the coolness of the brick wall strike a chill up her spine. Before she could flee, he hammered his knuckles straight across her left cheek throwing her to the side upon a stack of broken crates that bashed her skull on the way down.

The world spun a bit slower as she sank to the ground. Rain didn't give herself time to react or embrace the pain before lunging at his legs, plowing Michael onto the concrete and her along with him. A series of grunts escaped from the both of them as they wrestled to gain control of one another.

Once Rain found herself over top of him again, she felt his hands grasp onto her sides as she aimed for his chest. Rain ripped Michael's hands off of her, but he pulled free from her grasp and latched on to her right wrist and waist.

Michael thrashed Rain off of his body and slammed her onto the ground beside him; she could feel the slime and mud paste itself onto her clothes and skin. The wind was knocked right out of her with the impact. Rain arched her back, struggling to regain oxygen as Michael toppled over her with a battle cry.

Roars and hollering . . . Rain could hear nothing but the men and boys raging with excitement as Michael gained control over her. He didn't grab hold of Rain, for she seemed to be in a daze. From below, she could see the rally of them, her rattled brain made it seem as if the crowd doubled in size.

 _You have to get up!_

Rain urged herself mentally to charge in motion. Losing was not going to make her feel any better, _especially_ since the game just started . . . and because she could be sitting in her own new car in the near future.

The broken crates were to her left, they were all beautifully scattered near her. Rain quickly seized a stray block of wood, delight revived her strength, and she rammed it over Michael's head.

He slid off of her with ease. The removal of excess weight over her body sent Rain leaping off the ground.

This time, she let the roaring crowd fill her with joy.

 _They were cheering for her._

As exhausted as she was, Rain bounced around offensively with her fists ready to go. Beads of sweat and blood dripped from her forehead and nose as her breathing became heavier. Her heart raced and her body ached, but the crowd encouraged her to go on, to finish him.

Michael stood up with ferocity. He stretched his back muscles and rolled his neck into place. Rain had never seen him so delighted or filthy. Not a trace of anger plagued his red and black face. He was enjoying this fight, and the crowd loved his enthusiasm.

Her previous assumption was correct. There _were_ more men surrounding the two of them, more bets going into play, and more money in Isiah's hands. There was no way Mr. Shelby wasn't going to hear about this.

Rain's fatigued mind drove her away from the fight. She urged herself to stay focused as her bruised bones began to cry louder. She had a feeling Michael was catching on to her dying stamina because he took all the fucking time in the world to unbutton his filthy shirt, rip it off, and wipe his face clean with it.

Everyone hushed their howls into an instigating baritone. He was fucking with her.

It was hard not to notice his sculpted figure. Of course Rain had urges and desires like every other human being on this earth, she only wished they wouldn't show up at unfitting times. Every muscle on Michael's arms and torso were cut sharply into sight as if by the Almighty Himself. His skin glistened with sweat and blood as it trickled- aaand Rain was off track again.

The disheveled girl spat saliva to the side.

 _Fine. You want to play dirty?_

Rain removed her own filthy, stain-ridden shirt. A few men whistled here and there, she was pretty sure Isiah was one of them, but that was the plan. Underneath, Rain wore a formfitting white shirt. It had no sleeves, which showcased her fit arms, and a scooped neckline that verified her ambiguous gender. The little clothing hugged her tightly around the torso where it was tucked into her trousers, so in theory, it was enough to even the distraction on the field.

As the cheering erupted again it meant that action was demanded. Rain wiped the blood and dirt off her freckled face and threw it in Isiah's direction.

Michael traced his eyes over Rain's figure once more before closing in on the space between them faster than Rain. His right fist aimed for her head, Rain ducked quickly and held her own right arm out to block his left hook. Michael's force was much stronger than Rain's. Even though she blocked another two strikes, Rain still felt his attack regurgitate her defense. She failed to catch Michael's right hand cuff her jaw, incredibly hard, for he diverted her sight with a faked jab. His method was impressively effective. If Rain wasn't crossed with her lack of mindfulness she would've applauded him. She teetered back for a quick moment to gather herself. A ringing sound wouldn't escape her mind as she raced back into the fire.

The two of them danced swiftly in the night, but Rain's motion was rapidly increasing in speed. She felt him straggle, just for one second of opportunity. Rain dived under his jab and swung her elbow backwards, puncturing his lower back, causing him to fall on his knees and she howled as the crowd praised her dexterity.

Michael stood up quickly once Rain rotated her line of sight back to him. His fists were up again, but Rain detected that his fatigue was getting the best of him. His breathing was much heavier and his shoulders hung low. Rain was filled with energy! She could clearly see herself in a shiny new car! Nothing could possibly ruin this moment for her!

Suddenly Michael's face fell. He dropped his arms to his side, but not in defeat. His eyes seemed to focus on something behind Rain.

Rain didn't notice that the crowd had faltered in number and the noise quickly spiraled down. Even Isiah's excitement was smothered by something Rain couldn't see or hear. The ringing in her ears only amplified the sound of her shallow breathing and racing heartbeat. Her movements suddenly seemed to lag in time once she lost all her adrenaline to the grave crowd. The pain from her injuries hit her all at once and the cold sweat dripping down her face abruptly caused her body to shudder. It was as if it took her hours to finally turn to where all the attention was.

Amongst the crowd, Rain thought she saw a familiar face. Most of the boys and men had paved way for a dark figure. He seemed the most sober compared to the rest of them, and the least entertained. His cobalt eyes bore bemusedly at Rain. Her vision began to blacken and clear up interchangeably once she sped up her movements, but Rain caught sight of him before falling onto the cold ground as the world blackened around her.

It was none other than Mr. Shelby.


	9. Outing

Thanks for the reviews, guys, much appreciated J -fia

* * *

One lamp.

One bed.

One window.

One broken body.

Rain had never been in this small room before, but this wallpaper was similar to the ones beyond the green doors of the office. How was she even thinking amongst all the throbbing and pounding going on in her brain?

It took her a few moments to sit up from the small mattress. Her arms ached as she lifted her body from the comforters. Nothing seemed harder than getting off of that bed. Rain managed to do so without making too much of a racket, though she whined with each muscle sore that erupted in flames.

"No one. Touches. The girl. That's what I ordered!" she heard a voice yelling from beyond the bedroom door. Rain froze, focusing all her attention on that infuriated voice. It was Mr. Shelby.

"I made that clear the moment she set foot in this enterprise!" Though he wasn't shrieking, Mr. Shelby's dark tone was obviously vexed. She could hear him pacing over the creaky floorboards, addressing people in the room below.

Rain stood up from the bed and limped out of the bedroom, carful not to make a sound. She found herself near a staircase and below it was the office. Rain had never been up the stairs before, it was rather disappointing to find out there were just bedrooms up here.

The girl shifted gingerly over the first step. Every bone in her body shrieked with agony as she attentively lowered herself to a seated position. Rain softly exhaled once she was able to relax and opened her eyes.

From the windows below, she could tell it was still late in the night. Between the railings she attentively found a few familiar faces. Isiah stood with his head down, leaning against a desk. Michael stood adjacent to him, head up, but his eyes didn't meet the figure across from him. Rain couldn't tell whom it was from where she sat.

Though Michael had found a shirt, his bruised and bloody face was still visible. Rain silently laughed at this, but her warmth iced over once Mr. Shelby began to speak again.

"When I made that clear, I was not aware that I had to worry about _you_ fucking up." Rain could see a hand come into the scene below. It obviously belonged to Mr. Shelby and was pointing straight at Michael's solemn face. "Of all the boys, I did not expect this horseshit from you, Michael." He threatened.

"We was just havin' a bit of fun, Tommy." Isiah interjected sheepishly. "Rainy brought it up-"

"-So what?" Mr. Shelby cut in, "So you went along with it?" he questioned rhetorically. "A small girl bets she could win at a fight and you give in just for the fucking fun of it!?" he raged.

"All I'm sayin' is that I wouldn't call her small the way she was fightin', boss."

"Out." Mr. Shelby commanded.

Isiah jerked up from the desk with his hands up in surrender, "All I'm sayin'."

"Out!"

Rain couldn't see him leave, but she heard the door close behind him. Once it was quiet, footsteps approached Michael. He didn't dare look up. Mr. Shelby's backside was now visible to Rain. She naturally drew back from the opening in case he decided to look up.

"How do you think a bruised woman would look at a Casino, Michael? Do you think no one would question it?" he tested.

"Ease up, Tommy." A higher voice said. It was Ada. Her soft footsteps grew closer to the two men. "We can smother them both in makeup before throwing them to wolves."

"That's not the point, Ada." Mr. Shelby exhausted.

Rain's heartbeat quickened once her footsteps didn't falter. Ada was headed straight for the stairs. She couldn't move because then they'd all know she was listening, and maybe Mr. Shelby would take the opportunity to reproach her. Nonetheless, she froze once Ada caught her sitting at the top of the steps. Rain clasped both hands together and silently begged for Ada below to keep quiet.

And for once, the Lord blessed Rain with an angel named Ada Shelby. She winked quickly and turned her attention back to the boys.

"You know how important this is." Mr. Shelby began, his voice lower than before, but it was always the scariest to Rain. "I already have a baby at home. I don't need another two at work, not when my wedding is this close. I can't have any more mistakes. Not for Grace. Not for me. Is that clear?" he finished.

Michael nodded silently.

"Good." Mr. Shelby backed away from Michael. "Ada, I want Rain up bright and early tomorrow. After her duties in the office, take her into town and buy her new clothes." She heard him slam something on a table. Rain figured it was money. "I don't want to see her in trousers until the job is done." She could hear him walk across the room, farther from Rain. "What have we learned, Michael?" he quizzed.

Michael breathed deeply, as if suppressing his emotions. "No mistakes."

"That's right. No more arguing. No more betting. No more fuckin' fighting."

* * *

"Pink is your color." Ada decided.

Rain looked herself in the mirror and wondered why it's been so long since she threw on a dress. The design of it was surprisingly comfortable. Though her range of motion wasn't as wide like when sporting trousers, the draping fabric did feel liberating. It was a foreign sight; something completely alien replaced her in the mirror of the boutique's dressing room.

After a few hours of painfully setting forth her tasks at the office, Ada practically carried Rain into a car. The soreness of her entire frame restrained her from doing anything at a normal human pace. Luckily, after twenty minutes of driving, Rain found the strength in her to walk and talk without straining for too long. Ada wasn't mindful of the torture she endured.

"I told you no more bloody drinking and then you go and get drunk and start a fight." She lectured Rain in the car. "You deserve to suffer."

The two of them visited three shops earlier that day. The ladies at the hat boutique nervously lingered on to Rain's presence as Ada browsed around with her. Rain took note of the sneering gazes, but paid no attention to them. It was common for a girl who looked like she did to receive unwanted attention, especially since she wasn't dressed as a girl. Ada found it quite irritating and rude. She made a show of it by purchasing five pounds worth of hats and placing a cloche on top Rain's messy hair before storming out of the boutique with her head held high, bags in hand. Rain trailed behind her, smirking at the baffled onlookers.

"If London wasn't so bloody far, I would've taken you to there. No one would look twice at us with disapproving attitudes like that." Ada expressed.

Rain made no effort to argue. Convincing Ada to do anything was like talking to a wall. Nothing would change.

After finding a few pairs of shoes that Rain could actually walk in, Ada dragged her into a salon. Rain strategized an intricate escape plan once she was placed on a chair near scissors, but Ada's mood improved immensely since the hat incident, so Rain breathed deeply before the stylist began her art.

It wasn't shorter, just cleaner and sharp. Ada handed her a bag filled with beauty products that the stylist applied on her face already. "See, that wasn't so bad!" she cheered. Rain was just glad Ada wasn't blowing steam from her ears anymore.

And so they finally found themselves in a grand boutique that sold all kinds of dresses. Ada lounged on the fainting couch and watched as Rain analyzed her cleaner look in front of the mirror. Her pitch-black hair was sharply styled to frame her delicate face. There was nothing boyish about its length anymore. She looked brighter and more welcoming now that her features were made to look softer with the help of some eye makeup. The pale pink dress began at her collarbone and covered her arms. Rain felt the cool air hit her bare back as it hung from her broad shoulders and met at the small of her back. It was bold, yet not too revealing. The silver designs began from the fitted waistline and draped elegantly downward, right above her ankles. She was delighted with how the silver embroidery amongst the soft pink brought her grey eyes into focus.

Nothing about Rain seemed misplaced. It all felt . . . natural.

"You like it." Ada smirked, ascending from the couch, sauntering over to Rain.

Rain held her hands over the smooth fabric and shook her head. "It's too fancy for practice and not revealing enough for the job." She listed.

"That's the first dress you actually looked twice at before throwing it off."

"There's no use for it."

"Who cares?" Ada waved her excuses away and stood behind her, forcing Rain to look at her in the mirror. "Tommy throws tons of classy events. We'll figure something out." She urged. "Imagine how Michael would look once he saw you in this." She added playfully.

"I'm taking it off." Rain interjected, but Ada protested and held her back with both hands before she could rip it off.

"I'm only joking!" she began to adjust Rain's hair. "No need to panic."

"Why would you say something like that?" Rain threw her arms in the air in defeat.

Ada turned her around so that they were facing each other. Rain's temper fell as Ada held both of her hands and said, "Have I ever told you about Karl's father, Freddie?"

Rain shook her head. Ada never spoke of her late husband. Lizzie told her about him, she just said he died a few years back and he used to have a rivalry with the Shelby's, but then things were good for a while before he died.

"When I first met Freddie, we had this . . . fire between us. It was _powerful_ . . . but sometimes dangerous. Life-threatening, almost." Ada's focus faltered away from Rain for just a moment too long. "In the end it got him killed, you could say. But when things were good, and we were on the same page, everything seemed light." Ada smiled, "Those were the best times of my life." She concluded.

"Ada, that is beautiful." Rain clenched her hands reassuringly, it was odd seeing her so vulnerable. "It's heart-wrenching, really, but that is nothing what I have with Michael, trust me."

"Then why do I see Freddie when I see the way you two are with each other?" she asked. It wasn't playful at all. Her eyes were slightly glazed over and her smile disappeared. Ada was genuinely convinced that Rain and Michael were . . . meant for each other. Rain's heart ached for Ada, not only because she has so much love for her dead husband, but also because her memory of him was now tainted with false hope.

In an instant, Ada's expression changed. Her smile found its way back to her face and she shook her head. "Forget it." She laughed, "If not for yourself, then for me. I can't stand to watch you leave behind a dress that was practically made for you."

Rain turned back to the mirror and smiled at Ada. "Fine!" she breathed and watched Ads burst into a giddy state. "But only because I know you'll yell at me the whole ride back until I agree."

"You're damn right, Rain Kinsley!" Ada announced proudly, before running finding the shopkeeper to ring up the other dresses, blouses, and skirts Rain agreed to.

She took one last look at herself before taking the dress off, without daring to think about Michael. Rain pondered at her new look. She felt entirely the same. Nothing about her life had changed, nor did her personality ring differently. It was as if the dress made her seem like a new person, a powerful person. Rain felt the same sensation when wearing trousers and a shirt. Her choice of clothing brought a new identity to life. There was no reason she couldn't play with both of them.


	10. Lessons

"Like this?" Rain panted.

"No," Lizzie held her hand over Rain's breasts. "You're too tense. Try relaxing a bit."

That night in the office, Rain tried her best to stand straight without seeming too stiff. "What's the point of wearing an undergarment that only causes shoulder pains?" She whined.

"It holds everything together." Ada mentioned as she sat and watched Lizzie help Rain.

"There's nothing really _there_ to hold." Rain laughed at herself, thinking of how much she was learning from this assignment.

For a full day, Rain practiced her walking in heeled shoes. Ada instructed her to practice in them on her day off from treasurer duties. It wasn't so different from walking in regular shoes. The only difference was she was slightly elevated off the floor, but it felt a million times harder to walk in them without seeming mad.

Nonetheless, Rain kept those heels on for the entire day. She was determined to master this art. After the pain in her heels began to fade, the walking became easier and the balance came naturally. It was almost _fun_ to wear heels.

Once she was back to work Rain wore an actual blouse, topped with matching hat. It was a tailored white shirt tucked under a burgundy skirt that stretched down to her calves. Fin sat by the door on her way in. He nearly fell off his chair when Rain breezed past the entrance, ignoring the jokes that were bound to make way from the other workers. It only made Rain walk taller and strut harder across the length of the room.

Lizzie and Ada were waiting for her near the back. Both ladies held a critical gaze at Rain as she strolled in without tripping in her new shoes.

"What do you think?" Rain held her hands and did a little twirl for her teachers, although she should've kept her surroundings in mind when doing so.

"How 'bout one more spin for us boys, Rain!" Someone whistled behind her.

Rain sharply turned around and caught sight of John Shelby. He stood amongst a few other men who laughed with him. This wasn't the first of his antics, just the first one since she changed her wardrobe. Rain scowled and held up an unkind gesture in his direction.

"That's not very lady-like is it?" He retorted.

"Fuck off, John!" Ada strained.

Rain leered at his smug figure for a moment longer before focusing her attention on Lizzie and Ada. They both brushed John's behavior aside, as if it were normal. "If only Esme where here." Rain spat, anger boiling in her.

"What difference would it make?" Lizzie mentioned before strolling over to Rain, her eyes seemed heavily drawn to Rain's chest.

"What?" Rain asked. Her self-assurance was suddenly lost.

"Where are your undergarments?"

Within the next hour Lizzie went out to buy a brassiere for Rain while she tended to her duties. Once all the men were gone from the office, Ada had Rain sport it on for them.

"Is there anything else I should know?" Rain asked, pacing back and forth, trying to gain some comfort in her new ensemble. "Some sort of trick to fake the comfort?"

Lizzie and Ada both laughed. Rain stopped pacing and placed both hands on her hips. "I'm serious!" she couldn't help but laugh at herself, "This is the most pathetic thing I've lost at, and I rarely lose at anything."

"This isn't a game, little Doll." Lizzie mused, joining Ada by the table.

"She's right, you've just got to embrace it. The _clothes_ make you, not the other way around." Ada stated, as if she were quoting something.

"That could take all night." Rain exhaled, trotting around the office, trying to shake the stiffness out of her system.

"You know what would help?" Lizzie chimed with a mischievous expression.

Ada raised her eyebrows at Lizzie. The pair looked like they were planning a surprise kidnapping. Rain halted before her two coaches.

"I'm up for anything at this point." Rain said.

"Drinks!" They cheered in unison.

* * *

The Shelby pub was quite busy that night. Rain couldn't remember the last time she was allowed to set foot in a lively tavern. Walking through those decorative doors with Ada Shelby's hand holding her own was enough to set her invitation for life. As the music thundered moderately in the background and a vast crowd of murmuring voices made their way through Rain's ears, she quickly reflected on how drastically her life was changing.

The last time she was here, the bar was nearly empty and she wore men's clothing. This time she breezed by a sea of finely dressed men and women wearing a bloody skirt and heels.

Ada was presented with a cleared table. She placed her bag on the table, leaving Rain and Lizzie to sit around it. Rain tried mimicking Lizzie's posture, trying to make it seem effortless. She sat a bit taller and arched her back as she rested her elbows upon the table.

The chatter and music around them wasn't powering over their voices, but it was enough for Lizzie to speak a bit loudly in her ear. "You have to stop thinking too much, little Doll."

Rain breathed in deeply before letting it loose and relaxing her shoulders. She leaned back in her chair and placed one leg over the other under the table, it was a collected structure but comfortable. And Rain didn't have to calculate what she had to do with the rest of her body.

"See," Lizzie cheered before leaning in closer to Rain, "You've already caught someone's attention." She whispered.

"What do you mean?"

Lizzie casually nodded her head to the right, "Don't look too fast. Golden boy at the counter." She discretely said.

Ada returned with an ungodly number of shot glasses on a tray. "That should do it!" she opined, placing them gingerly on the table before sitting to the left of Rain.

Rain traced her eyes to the counter. A blonde boy was leaning with his back against the edge of the counter. He was speaking with a friend who sat with his back to Rain. The blonde boy caught Rain's quick glance before she could look away and he flashed a dimpled smile straight at her. She instantly turned away, focusing solely on the shot glasses before her.

"What's the matter?" Ada prodded as she sat down. "You look sick."

"Our little doll's got an admirer." Lizzie joyed.

Ada raised her brows, "Who?" and she began scanning the vast tavern.

"Blondie." Lizzie informed.

"He's rather dreamy." Ada purred. "You should go over to him."

"No."

"It'll be a good learning experience." Lizzie added.

Rain grew uncomfortable sitting between the two women. They were making it a bigger deal than it was. "He's alright." She shrugged, desperately trying to find something else to focus on like the curtains, the ceiling, or the chandeliers, anything _but_ the beautiful blonde boy.

"Drink up, and he'll be more than alright." Ada shoved two shot glasses in front of Rain.

"What happened to your first rule?" Rain questioned. "No drinking, you said."

"Rain, I am your instructor." Ada downed a shot, slamming the glass down on the table along with Lizzie. "And as your instructor," she beamed, "I instruct you to drink."

Both Ada and Lizzie indulged in their second shot. They both swung their heads back and grunted once more as the poison slid down their throats.

"You sure?" Rain asked, itching to take a drink.

"As your secondary instructor," Lizzie declared, "I second your instructor's instructions!"

"Alcohol will increase your comfort, Rain. You've got to get used to wearing the clothes and acting the part until it becomes second nature." Ada intelligently slurred.

Rain couldn't help but smile at their ability to let everything go. Both Ada and Lizzie were working women who wore stylish clothes and still managed to take up a few drinks at night. Not to mention Ada was a mother! If it comes naturally to them, then it should for her as well!

"Why the fuck not?" Rain surrendered, downing one shot after the other. She didn't let the sour taste take over until she swallowed each serving. Lizzie and Ada both applauded in astonishment, cheering her on as she guzzled three shots in a row. The burning liquid warmed her mind within seconds.

"That's more like it!" Ada clapped Rain on her back. "There's the Rain I know!"

Rain closed her eyes and rolled her neck as the music around her soothed her bones. Her bruises were covered, but her muscles still ached now and then. It was the first time she drank since the fight, and the tonic eased her body into a sitting position. She smiled and began bobbing her head to the music.

"Rain," Lizzie called, rendering Rain out of her mind and back to the present. "Have you ever been with a man?" she asked.

Rain cracked a laugh; the liquor was doing its work. She shook her head side to side, her short hair swayed with her. "Do you think I got the right kind of attention dressed like a man, myself?"

"She has a point." Ada nodded.

"Numbers came easy to me," Rain mentioned, "This kind of stuff," She waved, "parties, dresses, boys . . . it was never the priority."

Rain could tell her open speech was killing the mood a bit. The two women exchanged a worried glance. So Rain quickly lightened the tension.

"But things have changed." Rain knocked down one more drink. "Ladies, it appears we've ran out of liquor. While I'm up there, I think I'll have a chat with Blondie."

An approving look was shares between them. Ada held out a hand, paving the way for Rain's departure.

"Good luck!" Lizzie called out as Rain walked across the bar.

Rain had no regrets shield her from this bit of fun. Everything around her seemed brighter and the people musing about were less intimidating. She walked with a powerful stride, but there was a sultry element to the way she held her shoulders up. It was magnificent the way her skirt shifted with her movement.

The beautiful blonde boy stood up casually as Rain neared him. She walked around him and placed her elbows on the counter. Rain was extremely aware of his presence, but didn't make contact. She caught the attention of a barmaid on the other side.

"Three more, please. For the Shelby party." As she spoke, Rain sensed the well-dressed boy turn around.

"What's a bird like you playing with a Shelby?" he said. His voice was deep and close to her. Rain didn't face him yet.

"If you've got a problem with the Shelbys, you've come to the wrong place, I'm afraid."

"No problem at all. I just want to know if I'll get cut for wanting to speak to you."

"Why gamble your life for a conversation?" Rain questioned.  
"I saw you down there with your friends and I thought you looked stunning,"

"Is that so?"

"And I really wanted to talk to you. Now you've made your way up here and I thought, if I were to go home without knowing this girl's name I ought to cut me'self for being a coward."

Rain faced Blondie. He was even more beautiful up close.

"Well said." She inched a bit closer to him, her eyelids felt heavier as he neared her. "And if I were to tell you that you definitely won't live to see tomorrow, how would that go?"

"All I ask is for a name, and I'll die a happy man."

"Rain," a voice called out from beside her. The chatter and noise of the tavern found its way back to her thoughts. She caught sight of a taller figure. He wore a nice clean suit, but sported a few healing cuts on his face. "Time to go, get up." He ordered.

"Michael?" she dazed, "What do you want?"

"I think it's best we leave now." he suggested.

"Why?" she challenged childishly

"I'll tell you when we're gone." Michael took hold of Rain's wrist, "Come on."

Rain ripped herself free from his grasp before he pulled her away from the counter. "No, stop! I'm talking with my friend." She neared Blondie once again, almost tripping into his arms.

"The lady wants to stay." Blondie straightened himself off the counter and stepped between Michael and Rain. "She made that clear, mate. So why don't you fuck off?"

The moment Blondie uttered those words in Michael's face the whole world seemed to stop. The music died completely and not a single word escaped from anyone's lips. Rain stood dumbfounded as chairs jerked back and men stood up from their seats, fists ready. She looked beyond Michael's grave expression and found Ada with her palm glued to her forehead while Lizzie seemed to be holding in a laugh.

Michael approached Blondie with prominent footsteps echoing through the pub.

Rain couldn't see his face, but she didn't have to in order to know what he was feeling. Michael stared him down with a cold glare, as if everything about Blondie was a waste of time.

"Do you've anything else to say . . . mate?" he warned.

Blondie furiously shook his head in fear.

 _Well he's fucking coward after all!_

"Rain." He didn't meet her eyes. "I don't quite like repeating myself."


	11. Truce?

The cool air did nothing to suppress Rain's fury once she was dragged out into it.

Once she was outside the Shelby pub, Rain took no time to begin arguing with Michael. She was infuriated when he completely undermined her own desires in front of Ada and Lizzie. Michael vaguely stated that he'd explain later and waved off their protests. Rain was heated most of all because she was forced to exit the establishment in the most embarrassing way possible with numerous eyes on her.

"Who are you!?" she raged, "Who are you to manage _my_ fucking affairs as if I were your bloody property."

"You have no problem when Tommy does." He stated while refusing let go of Rain's wrist as he led her further from the bar.

"He pays me, there's a fucking difference." She spat, unable to wrench her arm free from his grasp. The whiskey was getting to her conscious faster than she could permit. "And I was doing his bidding, believe it or not."

"You're saying Tommy ordered you to speak with that bastard?" Michael turned a corner. The streetlights were not bright enough to illuminate his irritation, but he was relaxed compared to the anger Rain was summoning from within.

It had been building up inside her for weeks. The constant condescension and fighting, it riled her insides and obstructed her thoughts.

"Ada and Lizzie were helping me, you fucking twat! Mr. Shelby gave them that responsibility in case you forgot, which is fucking remarkable, considering your _pretentious_ nature. I was performing what they assigned me to do, test out my comfort in these damned tight clothes, or whatever. And you know what?" she humored, "I actually considered speaking to that _bastard_ before they even wanted me to."

"Is that so!?" he mocked.

"I suppose your boys are going to toss him out in the alley and cut him up, and all for what?" she ranted, lagging behind his speed, "all for speaking with me and compromising your bloody masculinity?" she jeered.

Michael abruptly stopped in his tracks, letting go of Rain before she could walk into him. He faced her, standing a few paces away. "You know what, Rain." He approached her impatiently with a gravely hushed voice. "That _bastard_ ," he pointed back in the direction of the pub, refusing to break his contact with Rain, "is a part of _Jack Crimson's_ fucking crew." He cautioned. "And yes! You won't ever see him again. No one will, because if somehow, _Rain_ , if he were to somehow spot you at the casino a few nights from now _then we're both dead_."

Rain's eyes widened, she matched his shrilling whisper "How the fuck was I supposed to know that!?"

"If you would just-" he exhausted.

"-What do you want me to do!?" she interjected. "Tell me, Michael! Please, I _invite_ you to tell me what the fuck you want from me, because _everything_ I seem to do either upsets you or enrages you."

"I can't believe this," he pondered, shaking his head. "I actually do something for the sake of your safety, and you still think I'm fucking with you."

"Well if it's gratitude you want, I'll gladly pass." She finished, steering away from him. Rain stormed across the alleyway and into the night. Her heels amplified her footsteps quite loudly, but she could still detect Michael trailing behind her.

"Stop following me." She commanded, without looking back.

"You're drunk." He replied with a hint of exhaustion in his voice.

"Not drunk enough, apparently." She said, mostly to herself.

As she trudged across the street with her arms over her chest, the cool air began to quell her anger. Rain always felt more comfortable in the night. It would've been more relaxing if not for the brooding figure shadowing her.

"Why are you suddenly so concerned with my safety?" She called out behind her. "Just last week _you_ were the one who knocked me to the ground."

Michael treaded a few more steps before answering her, "Tommy wants us to cooperate. I don't like to disappoint." He exhaled.

Rain walked on for a few more silent moments. She made her way to the center of the barren road that stretched between quiet homes. It was a nice quarter with clean stoops and transparent windows. They were her favorite ones to walk by. Rain made it a habit to take this route when making her way to her own residence, she liked to pretend that one of these were hers. For some unknown reason it eased her tension.

Maybe it was the stability and protection that emanated from them. Or maybe she just liked the pristine aesthetic.

It was also a calm sight to watch the lights blow out from each window as the moon rose higher in the night.

Once she neared the end of the pavement, Rain came to a stop and turned around. Michael changed course abruptly, silently analyzing what went wrong. He rarely asked questions, Rain noticed.

The lights began to shut off one by one down the long road and the stars above shined prominently after a few minutes of stillness. Rain breathed in deeply, shutting her eyes, and let all her anger and tension dissolve into the cool night. The quiet town soothed her pain and irritation. If her skirt had pockets, Rain would shove her hands into them and dwell on the sight, and if she were alone she might've stood there all night.

Rain could sense Michael aching to question her motives, so she circled back in the direction of her home.

"You never walked me home before." Rain noted, breaking the silence. "Why start now?" She slowed down enough to let Michael stroll beside her.

"You never looked like that before." He stated.

Rain finally met eyes with him, although it was more of a glare than a flattered look.

"Do you honestly believe you could walk alone in the middle of the night in Birmingham, dressed like that, without having to worry about your life?" he asked. It wasn't a scold; Rain grew accustomed to how Michael answered people with questions with a question. The two decided to leave the dirty air behind in that alley without verbally addressing it.

"I never had to think about it before." Rain considered.

"That's how the world works, Rain. You should remember that people perceive you differently now." He mentioned calmly, "You can either use that to your advantage or have it blow up in your face if you're not careful."

Rain let out a deep breath before slowing down to a stop. "I suppose you're right."

The pair halted before a two-story building. It stood beside a rather loud train track and a smoggy factory. There was only one streetlight in the distance. Rain held her hand over the cold knob of the tattered door.

"This is where you live?" Michael yawned.

"You've got a problem?" Rain remarked with false offense, though Michael seemed shaken by her sudden outburst.

"No, I didn't-"

Rain waved him off with a tired laugh, "-Relax. I found a nicer place since my pay increased." That was the second time she had caught him off guard. "This is closer, and I like to keep my personal residency discrete."

"Clever." He admitted.

"Despite what you think, I know quite a lot about how the world works." She leaned against the door with a smirk.

Rain wasn't sure if it was her intoxicated mind or if Michael had actually projected a genuine smile in return. Even so, it quickly faded with the passing wind.

"Good night, Michael. This was definitely a learning experience." She saluted him before unlocking her door.

"I'll have someone send over a package before you come in for work." He mentioned before she walked in.

"Dare I ask why?" she exhausted.

"Have you forgotten our wager, Rain?" he mused with a tired delight as he treaded backwards, farther from Rain's door. "Let me know if I got your size right."

"Thanks for the bloody reminder." She cursed under her breath before shutting the door on his taunting figure. Rain let a ghost of a smile creep on her face before mentally slapping herself.

 _NO._

After a few frustrating moments of overthinking, Rain managed to fall into a deep slumber without letting the idea of Michael plague her thoughts, burying even the smallest hint of regard for him.


	12. Why are you here?

"How is reading going to help me, Ada?" Rain whined once she was dumped into a chair behind a desk.

A series of hushing noises evoked from every which way. It was the third time that happened since Rain's arrival.

Ada asked her stop by the library after work. Rain had never stepped foot into one, books were never something she delved into. She knew how to read and write, but was never given anything else to read besides documents and charts that mostly consisted of numbers. The structure was momentously grand and the ornate ceiling stretched on for days. The enigmatic number of windows let in gleams of heavenly sunlight that bounced off the polished pillars and railings. _Was the sun even out today?_ Rain almost broke her neck coming in. Her heels echoed through the quiet establishment. There were infinite levels of classical shelves and seats that held countless novels. _Could anyone ever manage to read that much in a lifetime?_

Rain, however, never took a liking to books. She envied people who could just lose themselves by scanning their eyes over written text. Rain preferred action. She enjoyed watching an event play out before her, something visible. Though whenever she caught someone engrossed in a book, she'd suddenly grieve over the fact that she never felt entirely invested into anything like that. Rain found that those readers were scattered all throughout the library as she struggled to find Ada on the second level of the building. It only made her feel even more incompetent.

"I'm working today, but that's not going to stop me from helping you." Ada said in a pacified tone, placing a stack of books on Rain's desk.

"Ada, I love the dedication, really," she sincerely interjected, "but I'd honestly rather shoot me self dead. I've got a few days left, what is reading going to do?"

Her instructor stood with her hands on her hips. "Fine," she stated, "I'll be blunt if that's what it takes." Ada picked up the first book from the stack and handed it to Rain, it was titled _Women in Love_ by D.H. Lawrence. "You've never been with a man, and you've only ever been friendly with one after intoxicating yourself. There's not enough time in the world to inform you on the basics, so you've got the next best thing right here." She tapped the book in Rain's hands.

"You want me to read . . . about romance?" Rain tried making sense of it, but there wasn't a hint of amusement written on Ada's face.

"That," Ada noted, "and sex."

"You're serious?" Rain asked in disbelief.

"How do you think girls are supposed to learn about this type of fun when it's considered unlawful for us to even think about it?"

"How are these even published?"

"These," Ada said wickedly, "are banned books. I dug up the most restricted and descriptive ones, just for you."

"How thoughtful of you." Rain uttered halfheartedly while flipping the pages for amusement.

"The best parts are marked with a folded corner." Ada informed Rain.

"Wonderful."

"We've got a few hours before I can drive you home." Ada picked up a few other books from a nearby shelf and stacked them in her arms before strutting away. "I'm sure you'll learn something about how women practically control men just by toying with them."

* * *

Rain spent half an hour opening and reopening the books piled in front of her, though she refrained from reading them.

For ten minutes she strolled around the second floor, hands behind her back, legs spread apart. It took her ten minutes to realize she was wearing a skirt, and so Rain stood up straight and adjusted her blouse before properly browsing the shelves that towered over her for another ten minutes.

And finally, after a full hour of intentional procrastination, when the skies turned black, Rain sat down before her books and began to simply _read them._

For some bloody reason, Ada was right.

It was amazing how much detail could be compacted in a single page of text. There was just enough information to form a picture in Rain's head. The performances written out in these books were living within Rain's conscious and yet she yearned to know more about how these imaginary people were feeling. She laughed at the funny bits that included playful banter shared amongst quirky characters and raised her eyebrows at the euphuisms directed between a lady and her lover.

After skimming through most of the books, Rain came across a heated scene that described the nights shared between lovers. From time to time, she would discretely scan around her secluded seating area to make sure no one was looking over her shoulder to see what private things she was reading. It was enough for Rain to unbutton her black collared shirt a few times, but the scenes ended shortly after the peak of the alluring descriptions. She grew frustrated and searched through the other books to find out what exactly happened after a couple shared something so intimate together. Unknowingly, it took up hours of her time in the library. Rain eventually fell asleep in mid-search. It was strange how reading something so scandalous and powerful led her to exhaustion.

It was the most peaceful slumber she dozed into, regardless of the fact that she sat on a wooden chair. Her cheek lay on the opened book and her right hand found its way under her head, acting as a pillow. Nothing was more serene than drifting to sleep in the midst of research.

Rain didn't know how long she had been asleep but after some time of floating through a starry night, without notice she was shoved off her cloud and hurled straight down to the earth at a rapid speed.

The grey-eyed girl jerked awake before hitting the ground as a slamming noise filled the quiet nook. Her breathing was fast and she quickly searched for any sign of danger out of habit. Unfortunately, the only sight before her sat calmly in a chair with his hands folded on the table.

Rain sighed heavily, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes when she realized it was only Michael. She was too drowsy to be angry with him.

"Interesting choice of books." He commented. Michael leaned back in his chair, flipping through one of the many. "I didn't know you enjoyed this kind of entertainment, Rain." He pondered.

"Instructions from Ada." Rain yawned deeply, stretching her arms above her head. When she opened her eyes, Rain caught Michael's swift glance at her chest.

 _Not swift enough._

She wasn't quick to button her shirt. From her readings she gathered that showing Michael she had detected his gander was smarter than acting like nothing happened. So Rain took her time as she redid her buttons, one by one.

"Why are you here?" she asked, blinking against the dim light that seemed brighter to her tired eyes.

"Did the dress fit?" he asked, eyes on the pages of his book.

"You're changing the subject." She sang.

"I asked you a question." Michael mimicked her tone, finally looking at her.

Rain threw her hands up in defeat and said, "Yes, it bloody fit!" fully aware of the shushing that would follow. _Four times._

"Why are you here?" she asked again.

"Tell me why Ada is making you read this." He smirked.

Rain gave up on Michael's inability to answer any of her questions. "I'm to learn the ways of a modern woman, aren't I?" she cocked her head, waiting for Michael to put the book away.

He didn't.

Michael's eyes twinkled with mischief as he placed one leg over the other and held the book up with one hand. "He grasped on to his lady's waist," he read aloud. "She shook with a yearning for more, a yearning for his touch."

Rain's ears grew hot as he continued. A calamity of shushing noises erupted from beyond the shelves. " _What are you doing?"_ she panicked.

Michael paid no regard to Rain's protests. "-Lady Margaret threw her head back in complete and utter satisfaction-," he went on.

"Michael!" Rain practically jumped from her chair and stretched herself over the desk. She urgently reached for the book, but Michael pushed the front end of his chair off the floor and leaned further away from Rain. He continued his narrative as he held the book out of reach in one hand and anchored onto the desk with the other.

"-She felt his pleasuring pulse _quiver_ within her-," he laughed, breaking out of character. Rain climbed up on the table and stretched her body further as he balanced on the back legs of his chair, all while the hissing and shushing increased around them. Suddenly Michael grabbed hold of her wrist to stop her from snatching the book away.

"-Michael, stop! Ada could get in trouble- wait! Let go!" she yelped as he lost balance upon his chair. Of course, he still had a hold of her as he toppled to the ground, which only sent Rain flying with him.

The remaining books fell off the desk as Michael swooped Rain off of it. Rain felt herself slam onto something hard, but it wasn't the floor. She found herself on top of Michael with books scattered around them. He groaned underneath her, she assumed it was a book digging into his back.

 _Good._

At least she got him to shut up.

Rain slammed her palms against his broad chest. Her hair curtained her face as she lifted herself up. "Are you fucking mad?" She whispered above him. Once a chuckle escaped his lips, Rain groaned in frustration and punched him hard on the chest before she unhooked herself from his torso and stood up, adjusting her skirt and blouse. "Shithead." She muttered. Michael's stifled cries of pain left her somewhat content.

As she brushed any remaining dirt off of her clothes, Rain turned around only to find Ada standing a few feet away. She stood with a stack of books pressed against her chest and raised a brow at Rain. Before Rain could protest, Ada ambled away showcasing a dirty smirk to the world.

Fuming with frustration, Rain turned back around to face Michael. He stood confusedly with his hand over the bruise that might have been forming under his shirt.

"What was that about?"

There were a series of swears Rain could formulate together that would render any man scared shitless. She considered unleashing her demonic reproach at Michael, but decided she could wait for a far worse outcome than this.

 _With patience, Rain_ , she urged herself, _your time will come._

"You're cleaning this up yourself."


	13. Readings

There were only two nights left before the robbery. Rain kept this in mind as the weather slummed drastically into shit. Thunderstorms raged from dawn till dusk, making the monotonous grey sky of the afternoon further Rain's displeasure.

Water was everywhere, all over her green dress and black hair. She was drenched down to the stockings, not even her umbrella could save her from the bleak weather. Her clothes clung on to her frame as water dripped from her hair onto the office floor.

Fin's jaw hung loose as he froze at the sight of Rain.

"Would you mind grabbing me a towel, mate?" she said through chattering teeth. He ran off instantly, blushing like a rose. Rain would've laughed, but she caught sight of a leering figure near the back of the room.

John Shelby stood between Isiah and Michael, who were in mid-debate about something John didn't seem to be listening to. He menacingly held his gaze over Rain's drenched form.

Rain repressed her anger and discomfort.

 _Just a few more days and I can go back to wearing regular clothes._

The minute seemed to go by painfully slow as Rain waited for Fin to run back with something to dry herself off. Amongst the almost empty office, she could still detect those lingering blue eyes. When she looked back, John was still looking directly at her. His eyes were filled with a raging thirst that he so blatantly revealed to her. It almost frightened Rain. She couldn't tell if it was how cold she was or John's greedy eyes that caused her to shake.

"Here you go, Rain." Fin brought her thoughts back to the present as he handed her a towel. She thanked Fin quietly.

Rain shook her head and placed the dry cloth over her shoulders. It covered up most of her upper body, so she finally decided to walk across the room without her trembling limbs visible to everyone in the office.

Michael first caught sight of her in that weary state as she passed by. Rain saw him glance her way, but she refused to acknowledge him for then she would have to approach John as well.

"No need to hide it, love." He called from behind her.

Rain stopped in her tracks, chewing on the inside of her mouth as she turned around. Her glare pierced through John's amused stature.

"I don't mind it at all." He noted.

"Don't you have a wife, John? Or is _she_ the one who's not satisfied in bed?" Rain stated calmly. "That must be why you're so desperate for attention."

Isiah and Michael were caught off guard with Rain's retort. They stopped their conversation immediately after Rain's outburst.

"Is that how you want to play, Rain?" he started.

Before he could go any further, Isiah lightheartedly placed an arm over John's shoulder. "Come on lads, we were off for a drink!" he interjected. "Let's hit it before the night raid comes."

Rain held her stance. She refused to look away from John. She decided there was nothing to be afraid of.

As she expected, John gave in after Isiah coaxed him some more. Though he turned around without another word, it still chilled Rain. She forced herself to stand up straighter once Michael held her gaze before turning toward the exit.

He seemed almost apologetic. Rain rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. There was nothing else to it.

* * *

It was a late night again.

Payday was the next day, so she had to stay in late to finish up. Rain took the book from Michael's room and headed into the main corridor. The long hall was quite eerie when it was just her sitting there; especially with that bloody storm roaring just outside.

Rain's clothes were finally completely dry from that afternoon's journey to work. She really wished she had won that fight so she wouldn't have to walk back in that storm tonight.

Nevertheless, Rain continued on with her work. There was some joy building up, for she knew the payroll was almost complete. The lack of voices in the dim-lit room was starting to drive her mad.

Amongst the silence, the thunderstorm raged louder as the door was suddenly thrown open.

Rain had a feeling Lizzie would come back to retrieve her precious top hat, but when she looked toward the open door, her stomach sank.

John Shelby stumbled into the long hall without closing the door. His eyes were ravenous and held onto nothing except Rain. Nothing about him was stable. Nothing about his aggressive movements led Rain to believe she would leave the office without breaking a few bones.

Rain stood up from her chair slowly with her pen in hand. She began scanning her surroundings, searching for something heavy she could slam in John's face.

"You won't find nothin', love." He slurred, treading heavier with each step toward Rain. Her heart raced with each footstep that grew closer to her. "You won't find a thing."

"John," Rain backed away carefully, "Why don't we sit down and-"

"Talk?" he laughed manically, stopping at the edge of the table. "I don't want to fff-fucking talk." He shook his head, shaking away all the laughter from his system. John then whispered loud enough for Rain to hear over the storm. " _I want to play_."

Rain trailed to her right, careful not to bolt. The only thing between them was that table. If she were to run back, she'd eventually have to turn around for the door. If she were to dash for the door, there was a high chance John would grab hold of her.

As John slowly traced the perimeter of table, Rain hovered around the furniture as well. Each passing second only increased her fear and sped up her heart rate. She could practically hear it drumming in her ear, ready to burst from her brain.

"I want to play with you-" his voice hitched, "the way you play with Michael."

Rain froze.

John clapped his hands, causing Rain to slightly jump in place. Her eyes widened with anxiety as her breathing quickened.

"You think I don't see how he looks at you?" he sneered, after a terrifying moment of silence a horrid smile appeared on his drunken face. "You must be hiding something from us if he's so _fucking_ sold on you."

Rain stopped in her tracks and thought back to her readings from the other day. All John wanted was sex. He wanted what he thought he was entitled to have. He wanted the one thing Rain had over him.

A plan quickly formed in Rain's head. It took every ounce of courage in her to relax her body. Everything in her heart was telling her to run, but Rain knew there was nowhere to run without potentially getting injured. This way, she was only half as likely to get injured . . . but Rain did the math. She wasn't escaping without enduring some sort of discomfort.

"Why didn't you just ask?" Rain purred, eyelids heavy over her grey eyes. She presented him with her most convincing sultry expression. No matter how badly she wanted to flee, Rain pushed herself to remain calm.

John comprehended Rain's sudden change of heart, but he wasn't sober enough to detect any falsehood. A triumphed look plagued his face, his muscles relaxed.

Rain breathed carefully. She had to do this next part slowly.

 _Just like in the books_ , she reminded herself before unbuttoning her dress. _You're just in a story_. Her fingers began to shake. _This is a romantic story_. Her eyes glazed over. _There's no reason to cry._ She didn't dare let a tear fall.

John's eyes widened as Rain let the fabric fall down to the length of her body. She wore a cotton slip that hugged her form and revealed almost her whole body. Rain sauntered over to John.

She was careful not to tremble when she neared him. She was careful not to shudder at his touch. She was careful not to display the pen she clenched in her hand.

John grasped tightly onto her sides. "Was that so fucking hard?" he breathed in her face.

Before Rain could strike, John pushed her against the wall. A cry escaped her, but she suppressed it quickly once he loosened his grip on her. Her courage was quickly diminishing with each touch he forced upon her. Rain held her chin up as he trailed his nose up her neck and reached her lips. Before John could go any further, Rain _thrashed_ her pen straight into his neck.

A guttural wail roared from John as blood made its appearance. His grip loosened even further on Rain and she dashed away from his control.

Rain's heart gave out as she bolted for the door. Her courage was nearly gone, but she charged across the room with all she could evoke from within. John's raging was not too far behind, she heard him knock down the table and everything on it cluttered onto the floor.

The door was so close, right within Rain's view . . . but suddenly it grew farther and farther away.

Her breathing gave in. Rain's fear got the best of her once John grabbed hold of her and heaved her back across the room. The clutter on the floor painfully broke Rain's fall. She couldn't breathe, but John was charging closer to her, angrier than she'd ever seen him. Blood was sprawling out of his neck. Her mind forced her to back away.

Terror diffused Rain's words and stability. She quickly shoved herself away from him, but John secured one of her legs. His tight clench caused Rain to cry out in agony. He yanked her under him and he hovered over her, closing in on her face.

John spoke directly into Rain's ear as he held one hand on her side and the other clenched her right arm. "Everyone likes him better," He expressed while Rain gasped uncontrollably, waving her free hand across the floor. The blood from the puncture she caused on his neck dripped down to her face. "Tommy . . . Polly . . . and you?" he raised his head to face Rain.

As he paused, Rain grabbed onto a large book. It was the one he'd previously knocked onto the floor. With all the life she had left, Rain cried out and _pummeled_ it across his head. John didn't falter, but it threw him off long enough for Rain to wrench her other arm free and push him off of her with all four limbs. He reached for her leg again but Rain took hold of fallen bottle and smashed it over his hand. Blood instantly drained from his wrist as he shouted from the sharp pain that followed from the shattering glass.

Rain scrambled for her balance and stood up over John's heaving body. She breathed heavily and threw her foot back with all her weight and kicked his side once with her heeled shoes, dropping the broken bottle onto the ground.

It felt good to hear him howl in pain. It joyed Rain. It replenished her courage.

The girl cried out with each following hack she exploded onto John's torso. She let her rage take over and continued to drive forward a brutal attack on his face, his chest, his back anywhere that caused him to cry out and bleed.

And when his wailing stopped, it still wasn't enough. Her wrath was not fully unfurled. It wasn't gone yet.

Before she could kill John with another bash to the head, a voice called out for her.

"RAIN!" It was like the voice was always calling her in the distance, but just now found its way to Rain's conscious.

She stilled her pulsing body and backed away from John's motionless one.

It was Lizzie.

Horror didn't suit her face.

Rain turned away from John and trekked toward Lizzie. "Your hat is on Polly's desk." She panted, not a hint of fear in her voice, but it was shaking. If the open door let in any of the cold, Rain couldn't feel it.

When Lizzie said nothing, Rain nodded and trailed away and out the door. She heard Lizzie call out for her, but decided not to go back inside.

* * *

She didn't know if the rain was cold. It fell hard and touched every inch of exposed skin on Rain's body. She wanted it gone. She wanted his blood off of her, wanted to somehow cleanse this whole night from her life.

Rain found herself still amongst the monstrous storm. She barely caught sight of two figures rushing over to her, wherever she was. She could hear none of it. There was no audible sound coming from Mr. Shelby's moving lips. Rain bore straight into his Michael's green eyes once he approached her, but she made no remark as he kept shaking her frame.

Michael held on to the sides of her head, inspecting if the blood was Rain's. He kept saying something, but Rain couldn't hear anything.

The rain suddenly felt like ice.


	14. Aftermath

_Hey, guys! Thanks for reading and reviewing :) I just wanted to say that I don't think the Shelby's are capable of something so vile. I just felt the need to address this issue in my story, somehow, since the Stanford victim released a letter to her attacker. It really broke my heart and I suggest you all read it for a more broad perspective on how victims are still negatively affected in this modern age. Though my story can't really improve her life and change anything regarding the issue of sexual assault, just know that my prayers are with her. –Fia J._

* * *

In the next second, Rain found herself indoors.

 _How long has it been?_

She was in a bleak study. It wasn't the work office. It was something much more refined. The room she sat in held a large desk. Nothing on top of it was organized. From the windows behind a seated Mr. Shelby she could see that she was still in Birmingham. The buildings outside were familiar, but this office was not.

Mr. Shelby was soaked in rainwater. He sat sternly in his chair across from Rain and wearily mouthed something. It took another second for Rain to register that he was speaking with her. She shivered in her seat, realizing a heavy coat sat over her half-naked body.

"Did you say something, Mr. Shelby?" she asked. Rain's tone enveloped all that she was feeling. It was rather numb and idle, almost as if she were unaware of what had occurred prior to this appointment.

Mr. Shelby narrowed his brows slightly. He couldn't process how to address Rain. She was clearly in shock and refused to focus on one thing without drifting off into a senseless state. He held her gaze for a belated moment, before peering off to someone who stood behind Rain.

"I said I wanted to apologize on behalf of my brother." He said in his usual taut voice, although the sincerity was present as he continued. "John had no right to harm you like that. He was drunk and ignorant-,"

"-But he would never do anything like that if he were sober?" she cut off. Nothing bitter clung on to her tone, and yet she spoke a bit louder than before. "I suppose that's what you wanted to say."

Mr. Shelby held Rain's unblinking gaze. "I'd like you to know that he won't be anywhere near you from now on."

"I'm not afraid of John, Mr. Shelby." She shook her head subtly. "If he were to try it again, I wouldn't think twice before cutting him." However, Rain's heart wrenched with agony. It was the first time she felt it all night. She was able to escape this evil once more . . . _but how many people have already suffered in its grasp?_ Rain's vision faltered, but she eased back into focus. "You want to know if he actually managed to do it?" She lethargically questioned. "No." she smiled lightly, eyes squinting with fatigue.

From behind Rain's seat, someone paced across the wooden floors. She made no effort to turn and see who it was, but had a feeling already she knew.

Rain felt every water droplet sink from her hair and fall to her barren thighs. She wanted to know why _she_ was free to live another day without a demon trailing behind her. Why was she released from the devil's snare and given another chance to run from it? Why is this something she, and countless others, must constantly worry about?

The ticking clocks filled Rowan's conscious. It only reminded her of every passing second that indicated someone's life, somewhere in this bloody world, was being threatened the way hers was Rain . . . and she could do nothing but sit and thank the Lord for his kindness, because _she_ managed to slip away.

Mr. Shelby was in mid-sentence before Rain unknowingly cut him off. "If you don't mind, Mr. Shelby." He stopped speaking, and she lifelessly continued, "I'd like the day off tomorrow." Rain stood up slowly from her chair. It was harder to do so with the anchoring coat that encompassed her frame.

"Yes, of course, Rain." He said, his voice neutral, though his blue eyes were filled with question.

"I'll be at the office on the day of the robbery." She informed him. Not a hint of pain strained her words, but she spoke more quietly than her usual lively voice.

"No need. I'll send over a car at six o'clock." He added calmly before addressing the quiet bystander. "Michael, see to it that Rain gets to Ada's safely. I'll let her know your arrival won't be too long."

Rain nodded her head before turning towards the exit. There was no energy left in her to deny Mr. Shelby's orders. She bid him a silent goodnight.

* * *

Michael did not properly look at Rain. He said nothing as he opened the door of the office and led her out. He said nothing as he patiently waited for Rain to walk down a long corridor. He said nothing as he gingerly helped Rain into a car. He even said nothing when she shuddered from his touch, and so he refrained from touching her again once he sat next to her in the car.

The ride to Ada's home went unnoticed. One minute she was in the car, the next she was stepping out of it. The storm had passed, and so she didn't wait for the driver to open the door for her.

Rain struggled to climb out, but managed to do so without tripping on the heels she still wore.

 _There was blood all over them._

Desperately, Rain bent her knees and strived to tear the straps off with her numb fingers. Her mind suddenly shifted from blank spaces to crashing red waves of anguish. She managed to kick off one but fought rigorously with the other. Her hands began to shake and her balance almost gave way, but a hand reached down to unhook that final strap.

Rain abruptly stopped her frantic behavior. She had forgotten about Michael.

For a moment, she had forgotten anything good existed.

Michael stayed clear from making contact with her skin. He cautiously removed the shoe from her foot and grabbed the other pair before silently dumping them into a bin nearby.

If Rain hadn't been so tired and cold, she would've lingered on to the grand white apartment that Ada called her home.

However, the only thing she wished to do was sleep, to have this night end.

As she climbed up the terrace, Michael hovered behind. The oak doors were thrown open before Rain could reach for the knob.

"Rain," Ada whispered in worry, as to avoid disturbing the neighbors. "You're soaking, get inside." She ushered her inside the warm living room.

The night was finally behind her.

"There are some dry clothes and towels in the bedroom over there." Ada pointed hurriedly across the snug couches and toys that trailed the hallway into a white room. "I'll come with bandages and some tea-"

"-Don't worry, Ada." Rain intervened quietly. "I can put me 'self to bed." She hobbled across the floor on her bare feet.

"You're limping, Rain." she protested.

"I'm fine, Ada." Rain exhausted, facing Ada once she reached the door. "I've suffered worse." Everything about Rain seemed weary. Her speech, her posture, her drooping eyelids, and the way she held her head up lazily, nothing about this girl resembled a hint of Rain Kinsley. "I just want to sleep."

Rain ignored Michael and Ada's worried glances and turned away, heading inside that white room. The door creaked as she pushed it further.

"Rain, please." Michael coaxed before Rain could shut the door behind her. "Let us help."

It was the first thing he said to her all night . . . of what she could remember.

Rain failed to turn around this time. "Go home, Michael." She said tiredly. "I want to be alone." And she quietly closed the door behind her, indulging herself in complete isolation.


	15. One More Game

Rain loved the theatre. She loved watching plays more than living her life.

Pictures were exciting as well, but that was nothing compared to watching a story unfold right before one's eyes.

In the grand Hippodrome Theatre, up in one of the highest boxes that towered over the other audience members, Rain sat alone. She had bought out the entire box for herself. With the money she was earning, it was like buying bread or new shoes. It was the first bit of calm Rain had felt since the previous night.

Her body ached that morning. Rain had woken up to sunlight for the first time in weeks. The usual grey clouds were nowhere to be seen, so she decided to leave before Ada could smother her with comfort.

As she made her way out of the white room, Rain tiptoed down the corridor of Ada's apartment only to find Michael sleeping soundly on one of the sofas of the living room. She went rigid at the sight of him.

Michael slept on his stomach with one arm dangling over the sofa while the other rested beneath his cheek. The small lines of sun shining through the blinds hit his exposed profile. Though he still wore his shirt and suspenders, there was no sign of strain on his face. His breathing was deep and tranquil. He never looked so . . . real. There was nothing intimidating about him.

Rain's heart stopped as Michael muttered something in his sleep and shifted his position so that he was facing the back of the sofa. She stood perfectly still, frozen in mid breath, until his breathing relaxed once more. The girl slowly exhaled and slid out of the door without another delay. She mentally cursed herself for holding up her escape just to look at Michael sleep. It was the weirdest form of perversion she had ever indulged in.

After a long, brisk walk, Rain approached her tattered home beside the smoggy factory. The moment she set foot inside her familiar room, Rain stripped herself from Ada's clothes and ran a bath.

It was a cold bath, but she didn't mind how it felt on her skin. Rain's numbness had escaped from her limbs and thoughts some time during her deep sleep. She felt the need to be somewhere comfortable, which is why she to confine herself in that tenement. After half an hour of sitting in the water, Rain scrubbed herself clean and quickly dried herself off. She dug out a nice pair of trousers and a clean shirt from her small dresser. Once her suspenders were secured, Rain looked back into the drawer and found her old hat.

 _Her father's hat._

Without thinking, Rain placed the cap atop her clean hair and she made her way out into town.

While walking across town, hands in pockets, hat covering her eyes, everything felt _good_. She felt light and at ease with the sun hitting her face. No one looked twice as she made her way down to the market and picked up something to replenish her hunger. She ate bread and butter on the go and stopped by a depressing lake, however with the unnatural sun shining over Birmingham, it was almost inviting.

Nevertheless, Rain found a tree to lounge against and looked out onto the blue water with fishes, of every color, swimming within it. Time was completely gone from Rain's list of worries. She couldn't recall how long she sat there, gazing out on the lake.

Once the sun was beginning to fall, Rain finally departed from her tree and came across a theatre.

Ergo, once she secluded herself from the rest of the world, Rain sat pondering above in a box of empty seats. The scene down below portrayed a bellowing young lady dressed in a ravishing Victorian garment. Painted sets stood magnificently behind her, depicting the lavish setting of the countryside and a large manor. Rain bore at the stage and the actors and suddenly closed her eyes. She took in the ramparting orchestra and the opera singing beyond it, focusing on sounds rather than imploring at the sights.

Slowly, it relieved Rain of the strain in her neck and legs. The bruises that developed overnight were suddenly irrelevant, and Rain dissolved herself into that pleasant seat. She didn't even strain when she sensed someone drop into the seat to her left. His clean scent was familiar and welcoming. It did nothing to steer her from the bit of serenity she hinged on to.

Rain stretched her throat and rested her neck against the top of her seat. She crossed one leg over the other and held her hands clasped over her lap with her hat resting underneath. She sat like that silently for a few more minutes, listening to the empowering chorus before addressing her visitor.

"Did you follow me?" she exhaled, her voice soft, yet her normal intonation prospered.

"Actually," Michael replied softly, though his deep voice carried beside her, "I almost gave up looking for you."

"That was the plan." Rain eased, refraining from sitting up or opening her eyes.

"I went to your home first, the one I actually know about." He listed. "Then I took a visit to the library, but I failed to find you reading controversial books in a quiet corner."

Rain let out a light laugh. "Go on."

"When I asked Ada about what you liked to do, she could only think of the things you hate. You hate shopping and brassieres. You hate books, unless they depict some sort of sensual act-"

"-Get on with it, Michael."

"Anyone would consider the alternative to books . . . so I thought of the pictures first-"

"-And so, you searched every cinema in Birmingham." Rain interjected. "And when that didn't work you decided to come here." She finally sat up from her seat and faced Michael. It was odd, seeing him after knowing what he looked like when he was asleep. Rain shook the image out of her mind, "Here I am." Rain gestured to all of her.

"Here you are." Michael echoed.

They held each other's gaze for a silent moment. For that little moment it was only Michael and Rain sitting in the curtained box. There was no impending plan to accomplish the next day. There was nothing life threatening outside that theatre.

As soon as the two noticed they've been silent for a second too long, their hearts felt heavier once their burdens fell back into place.

"Do you often come up here?" he asked, placing his focus on the opera down below.

The girl was rather solemn that the boy broke it off so soon.

"This is my first time." She admitted. "I've seen countless plays from the very back of this theatre, right back there." Rain pointed across from Michael. "The most well dressed blokes sat up here like kings, and for the longest time I've dreamed of being one of them . . . If not for good then just for a day."

"And now that you're up here?" he asked.

" . . . It doesn't make me feel any different."

"Sorry for your disappointment."

"I'm not." Rain was loose enough to smile at the scene below. "It made me realize what a fool I've been." At this, Michael faced her. "There's no difference between those who fuck and those who get fucked. We're all just pretending that we're better off where we are. Then when you get a taste of something different, you start craving more of it. When you've got more, you don't stop there. You'd do anything for just one more fucking taste . . . until it finally erupts into nothing."

"So we all get fucked in the end." Michael said in her ear.

Rain was completely unaware that she was clenching on to the arms of her seat. His voice extinguished any remaining bitterness and she released the tension from her grip. "Exactly."

The passion of the climaxing music entrapped Rain. She was completely enthralled with the symphony as it mused louder with each note the opera singer carried. Nothing was out of order, every instrument directly correlated with the story that unraveled before her. The minute every melodic tune rang with a riveting essence, Rain felt that the end was near. The story was at its conclusion and she would have to rush back into reality once the curtains would close over the stage and the lights were to illuminate the falsehood of what she had just invested herself in.

As she sat there, grasping on to the remaining melodic finale, a single tear slid down Rain's cheek.

The show was over.

* * *

Her body ached for rest, and Rain needed a good one before heaving herself into a potential death the next day.

"Sure you don't want to go back to Ada's?" Michael asked.

"I need something familiar right now, Michael." Rain expressed. _In case I die tomorrow._

As Michael walked her home in the night, thunder cracked in the distance and moments later it began to pour.

Rain had a feeling the sunny day was too good to be true.

None of them came prepared with an umbrella, so Michael took off his suit and held it over his head as the rain struck over them like rocks. Without regarding Rain he edged closer to her and held the makeshift cover over the both of their heads as they walked closer to her home. This forced Rain into his arms. His clean scent was a rather welcoming fragrance. She didn't mind it when Michael treaded closer to her as her shivering took over. Though she was wearing trousers and a shirt, Rain felt a warm presence rise within her reminding her of the time she tried on that timid, rose pink dress. It was quite intoxicating.

Just as they neared the house, the storm roared over them like cannons firing not too far away. Rain hastily unlocked her door and rushed inside the shelter. When she turned, she found Michael hovering by the entrance like a lost sheep.

"Are you going to come in or what?" she yelled over the thunder and wind.

Michael darted inside and shut the door behind him, leaving the two of them dripping wet within Rain's dark room.

Rain took no time to spark flames upon the blocks of wood in her fireplace. Her teeth chattered as her body frantically shivered, but once the fire blazed into life, Rain was able to breathe again. Michael crouched beside her after hanging his soaked suit onto the arms of a tattered chair. It shielded them wonderfully, but the two were still damp.

"It's not much." Rain mentioned, poking at the wood.

"We'll live." He assured her with a subtle shiver.

She left his side and walked to her small dresser. She placed her wet cap inside and pulled out two dry shirts. Rain tossed one over to Michael.

He caught it swiftly and, to Rain's surprise, shifted out of his suspenders. Michael began to unbutton his vest and shirt as he sat on the floor. Rain caught a quick glimpse of his bare torso once he threw them both off. Her heart raced with confusion.

 _Would it be rude to turn away? He didn't turn away!_

It was all so fast, but she raged to herself about how a naked body never entrapped her before. Rain lingered on for just a second more to take in his bare physique when Michael caught her eye and smirked before placing the shirt over his head. His muscles gleamed in the light of the flames as he maneuvered his arms into each sleeve. Their eyes were fixed at each other until the shirt completely covered his skin.

 _Another game?_

There was nothing Rain could change. She had been caught. So there was no hiding. To challenge Michael's own assail, Rain began unbuttoning her own wet shirt in front of him. Every button was like another strike at Michael. Although he showed no sign of how it affected him, Rain caught his breathing shift.

Rain wore a short undershirt without sleeves that clung to her form. The cold suddenly became irrelevant once it fell to the floor. The fire raging in Michael's eyes was enough to send her chest aflame. Slowly, Rain placed on her nightshirt and proceeded to step out of her trousers. Her legs were exposed under the long shirt, it was shorter than most of her dresses, but Rain refused to cower from Michael's eyes. The furious storm was the only sound amongst the small room. She simply waited until he looked away.

When he did, Rain sauntered away with a smirk. It felt good to win.

She fell into her bed with a heavy sigh and wallowed over how divine it felt to be in dry clothes. For a few moments, there was complete silence. Rain's eyes were closed when she felt someone fall into her bed beside her. To no surprise, it was Michael.

"What's this?" she asked, backing away.

"There's only one bed." Michael shifted away from the edge of the bed, closing in on Rain. Her back hit the cold wall and she was forced to meet him in the center.

"There's a rug near the fireplace." She informed him, but Michael was already relaxed on his back with his eyes closed as he pulled the covers up.

"It's actually rather comfortable, you should have a go." He insisted in a low voice.

 _He was serious!?_

Rain glared at him even though his eyes were closed.

"Go to sleep, Rain." He exhausted. "We've got a big day tomorrow."

With a final glare, Rain dropped back onto her side of the bed. Never did it feel so small. Of course, Rain always slept alone.

She calmed her breathing and lay on her side. Michael was strangely close to her. Never had they been such close proximity without hurling fists at each other. Rain pulled the covers up to her shoulder and closed her eyes, trying to forget that he was next to her. His breathing was prominent, yet quite soothing. She could sense his chest rise and fall with each breath and how warm he was even though they weren't touching.

It was . . . calming to have someone beside her. Rain couldn't remember the last time she slept next to, or even near, a living thing. It was an unusual feeling to encounter, but it was purely innocent. Nothing about this situation sparked flames or desire within Rain. She just wanted him to be closer to her; there was nothing more to it.

After peacefully pondering this sensation, Michael had shifted beside her. Hours could've passed by, but when Rain opened her eyes it was still dark and stormy outside. She also found Michael on his side, looking at her.

"Are you afraid?" he whispered, even though it was only the two of them in that room.

"Why?" Rain yawned.

"Because you're not asleep." He shrugged.

"Is that why you're not?" she asked, closing her eyes. Looking at him lying beside her like that would've changed something, and Rain didn't want this feeling to leave her.

"No." he breathed.

 _He's so close._ "Then why, Michael, are you awake?" she mumbled, almost asleep.

"Because you're next to me."

Rain didn't dare open her eyes. Not when he said that so calmly, without any hidden agenda underneath it all. "I told you, I don't bite." She retorted softly, even though she knew he didn't mean it as a joke.

When he didn't say anything, Rain exhaled and spoke again. "Why did you let me go the first time we met?"

"I didn't." Michael breathed. Rain opened her eyes to the darkness, but Michael's eyes were closed. "I told Tommy about you the next morning."

"What?" It was never explained how Mr. Shelby found her. Rain decided it wasn't important, but now that she knew . . .

Michael's answer converged with a deep yawn. "Tommy informed me on the Crimson robbery weeks ago. I knew how much he needed something perfect to secure his plan."

"So you sent him to me?"

Michael nodded his head against the pillow lethargically.

"Because you don't like to disappoint." Rain commented.

"Precisely, Rainy Day." He muttered with his cheek pressed against the pillow.

It was quiet again, just for a few moments. Rain was aware Michael was drifting away, but his breathing was not yet even.

"Michael," she sighed.

He replied with a soft hum, the deepness of it nearly sent Rain plummeting off the bed and into the fire.

"I wanted to thank you." Her voice faltered.

"For what?" he was nearly asleep.

" . . . For being normal with me today."

Those were the last words Rain managed to utter without falling asleep, but it meant the most to her. Tranquil stars sprinkled over the young pair within that dark room. There was no more space between them as they descended from reality.

Sleep nearly caught on to both of their minds just as strange sounds began to emit from above.

Sounds of a creaking bedframe grew louder with each second and a high-pitched moan followed. There was a lower grunting sound that paired with a woman's cry of pleasure.

Rain and Michael both shot their eyes open as the moans were at their loudest and fastest. Rain's face was as red as a rose and Michael snorted at the sight of her. The two spurted into laughter, closing in on each other. They were like children snickering in school as if they were restricted from making any sound at all.

Amusingly, that's how they fell asleep. There were no games, yet the two indulged in their childlike behavior by forgetting about what was expected from them. Rain was curled against Michael's chest. She could feel his heartbeat soften as her fatigue took over. Right before she wandered into a calm slumber, Michael had placed an arm around her.

It wasn't that she was too tired to move him away, she simply felt as if it was the right way to fall asleep.


	16. A Man's Word

_A car will be here shortly._

 _Don't forget your dress._

 _– M_

Rain tossed the note aside and toppled back on to her bed. It seemed so large now that no one was next to her. The indent that once held Michael bore his soapy scent. She lay there for a few minutes; fuming it all in before noticing how stupid she must've looked.

 _Why am I enthralled by a fragrance!?_

Disgusted with herself, Rain shot up in efforts to rid herself of whatever disease she was suffering from.

It was a big day today and she needed all of her sense to live through it.

* * *

Rain waltzed through the office doors. If it hadn't been for Ada, who stood at the entrance with her arms crossed and eyes leering with disappointment, she would've remained in the good mood she woke up in.

"You can't run this time."

Before Rain could rush away, Lizzie crept out of the darkness from behind her. "Where the bloody fuck is everyone anyway?" Rain complained. The office was barren and soundless.

"They've been given off to prepare for tonight." Lizzie said, "As you should."

Rain could do nothing as the two women approached her from both sides. She was surrounded and ready to relinquish her final hours of freedom. They led her upstairs into the room she once woke up in after fighting with Michael.

 _Michael._

Imagining his sleeping figure riled something in her stomach. Rain quickly pushed it back down. She had to remain focused for tonight. Nothing is to go wrong. As Lizzie and Ada attacked her face and hair with trinkets and makeup, Rain began to drift away. She went back to last night, to the serene warmth she felt within Michael's embrace. _Did it really happen?_ She thought to herself about how it could've all just been a dream.

"Rain?" Lizzie broke her out of her thoughts.

"Yes?" Rain opened her eyes, even when Ada told her not to for she was applying something powdery on top.

Lizzie seemed concerned. "Are you all right?" she asked, "You haven't said anything about John." He voice faltered.

Rain closed her eyes to let Ada timidly apply the color to her eyelids. "There's nothing to say, Lizzie."

"Yes, but, how are you feeling?" she pried gently.

Rain suspected the two were glancing at each other in worry. "Honestly . . ." she began; there was no escaping their consul. "I'm sure I feel better than John does right now."

"I'm sorry he attacked you, Rain. It was horrible and wrong and he deserved what you did to him but . . . John isn't normally like that." Ada pondered softly.

"Well it happened." Rain sternly commented. She felt Ada hesitate with her brush for a moment and Lizzie paused subtly with her hair. "Just be glad it was me and not some other poor girl."  
"Rain, we know you can take care of yourself." Ada started, "Just know that we're here for you."

When Rain opened her eyes Lizzie and Ada were both in front of her. She wanted to question whether they would stand by her if John _did_ manage to finish her off. She wanted to know if they would think any different of her, if John would actually be pardoned amongst the Shelby family . . . and yet she know that's exactly what they were thinking as well. It would be harder for them to swallow if John did.

Fortunately, he didn't. Rain didn't excuse his intentions, but for the job's sake she had to put up with it, and that was probably the worst feeling she had to endure. Although she wasn't worried about another attack, she knew there would be eyes on John if he stepped anywhere near. Rain would be the first to defend herself in any life-threatening situation.

With the tension in their eyes, Rain could see how much family and honor meant to them. So she threw away her argument and remembered that Lizzie and Ada were her friends. They cared about Rain, too.

"So," Rain exhaled and stood up, pushing away anything close to a somber attitude. "Am I allowed to see?" she asked.

Ada nodded with a smile and led her to the tall mirror. She was rather excited.

"Well, fuck me." She breathed in astonishment.

Rain held her gloved hands on her hips. Her arms and chest were exposed in the fitted black dress that draped down right below her knees. Her straps were sequined with frilly material that expanded over the whole dress. Rain was glimmering in the light. Lizzie had placed a black and silver band around her waved hair. It sat perfectly atop her styled hair. The darkness of her ensemble made her pale skin glow like the moon.

Ada had completely changed her face. Black lining and powder surrounded her grey eyes. She even managed to cover up Rain's freckles and cuts.

"Is that lipstick?" Rain joyed, her teeth shining white behind her blood red lips. "If my father ever saw me in this . . ." Rain's voice faltered. She dropped her gloved hand from her lips and shook her head, throwing that memory away. "Thank you, the both of you."

"The dress transforms you, Rain." Lizzie commented.

"You don't think it's too exposing?" Rain asked, embracing her naked shoulders.

"That's how everyone dresses in London." Ada approached Rain and adjusted the band on her forehead. "You'll blend in quite nicely. I think we've taught you all that we could." Ada glanced at Lizzie. "You'll be perfect."

Lizzie wrapped her arms around Rain first. She held on tightly as she forced Rain onto her tall figure. "Be safe, my little doll!" Lizzie said in her ear. "I want to see your fresh face Monday morning without any new bruises, you hear me?" she threatened.

Rain whimpered in Lizzie's crippling embrace as she held on belatedly. "Of course, Lizzie, as long as you don't crush me to death."

Lizzie finally let go with a subtle sob, "I'll let Johnny know you're ready." And she headed toward the door, shielding her tears.

As the door closed, Rain was then immediately enthralled into Ada's arms. She wasn't as tall as Lizzie, so her chin fell right above Ada's shoulders. Rain held on tightly, feeling delighted by how worried they were. The feeling was foreign, yet Rain welcomed it.

"We usually don't say goodbyes." Ada muttered in Rain's ear.

"Why start now?" Rain questioned, her nerves kicking in.

Ada released Rain. Her face was plagued with anxiety. "I don't know, Rain. I don't feel good about this at all." She expressed with uneasiness. "This happens all the time in my life. I'd watch my brothers go, and I know they'll be all right . . . but I can't explain why this feels bad to me."

Rain lifted Ada's chin and spoke softly. "As your star pupil, Ms. Ada, I'd like to inform you that I _will_ come back solely due to your unnatural patience for my incompetence and excellent teaching methods."

It joyed Rain to make Ada laugh, although it was expressed with teary-eyes, it was enough to give Rain the confidence to believe in herself.

"May I come in?" a voice objected from the door.

Polly walked in as Ada indicated her welcome. Ada quickly wiped away her worries and stood like her normal bold self. "Aunt Pol, are they ready for her?" she asked.

"Johnny's outside with Michael." Polly said, pausing slightly. "Do you mind, Ada? I'd like to speak with Rain before she leaves."

Ada reassured Rain with a final embrace. Rain desperately wished Ada could've stayed. No amount of money in the world could persuade Rain to sit alone with this terrifying woman. Nevertheless, Ada was out of sight and it was only Rain and Polly.

"Lovely dress." Polly began.

Rain withheld the name of the person who bought it with all her life. It felt like she was ready to spurt out that information, like her mind would betray her just for a laugh.

"You wanted to speak with me?" Rain carefully addressed.

"To the point then?" she humored. "Alright." With a grave look, Polly pulled out a blade from her boot.

There was no doubt Rain would've jumped into action if not for the fact that Polly wasn't stupid. She held her ground and carefully watched as Polly handed it over to her. Rain took it with caution, and balanced it in her hand.

"I can't undo what John did." She explained. "I can't convince you that he has a good heart either . . . but I can give you this."

Rain did nothing with the blade. It was a nice one, too, ornate pewter at the grip. "You trust me with this?" she asked.

"I trust any woman with a knife." She declared. "Knowing that we come from the same background, I'm surprised you didn't have one on you this whole time."

Rain shrugged, securing the blade in her right stocking. "I'm pretty fast, believe it or not." She was thrown off by Polly's consideration.

"This doesn't mean we're good, girl."

 _There it is!_

Rain narrowed her brows at the sudden shift. "Sorry, did I do something wrong?" she confronted.

"Michael's only out there tonight because _you_ agreed to this bloody plan."

"Pardon me if I'm too bold, ma'am, but he is an adult." Rain protested. "He makes his own choices just like you, just like Mr. Shelby, and just like any other Blinder. He could've backed out at any time-"

"-Just know this!" Polly interjected. "If for some reason you live tonight and my son does not, know that you won't live to see the morning."

* * *

The motorcar was magnificent, even with the setting sun as its only form of lighting it radiated with perfection. It was a classy red Lincoln with a black top. Everything about it shouted money. The body of it was so shiny it gleamed brighter than the sun. Rain was positive it was made of rubies. It was the perfect getaway car. Rain imagined herself jumping into the car and slamming the accelerator to breeze away from the crime scene like in the pictures

Johnny sat in the driver's seat while Michael leaned against it, waiting for Rain. He wore an expensive black suit with a silver chain to match Rain's dress. His hair was combed elegantly under a sleek hat and he wore round sunglasses to further his sharp look.

As Rain walked down the steps of the Shelby house carefully in her new black heels, both Michael and Johnny broke their necks at the sight of her. Rain was a glimmering shadow in the remaining sunlight. Her grey eyes illuminated past her black attire and hair. She was showing much more skin than usual, everything about her was quite prone to attention.

"Johnny," Rain greeted her driver for the night.

"Delighted to see yer again, Miss. Kinsley." No matter how many times Rain urged Johnny to stop calling her 'Miss. Kinsley' he always managed to do so anyway. Johnny charismatically tipped his hat from inside the car, "Might I say, you look absolutely terrific. No one will suspect a thing by the looks of you, not with that class of a dress you've got there."

"Alright, Johnny." Michael exhausted, rendering Johnny's attention back to the steering wheel.

Rain held in a laugh and approached Michael. "Good evening, Mr. Gray." She could only imagine where his eyes were looking from behind those sunglasses.

"Evening." He tipped his hat and opened the door for her.

Rain climbed effortlessly into the secluded backseat. The bright leather was freshly assembled. It was cool against Rain's skin.

Michael spoke once the driving commenced and the engine roared slightly louder.

"I like your dress." He said, looking out the window.

"Thanks," she replied with false appreciation. "A real piss-ant bought it for me."

"Is that right?" he humored.

Rain saw him smile under those glasses. "Yeah," she slipped those glasses off his face and placed them over her own eyes. "He forced me into it, but I rather like the way it looks on me." She smiled when he finally looked at her.

"You think he didn't know that when he picked it out?" he said.

Rain looked out those glasses and saw that the world was tinted over. "I reckon he doesn't know anything about my interests."

Michael didn't say anything for a moment. Rain felt his eyes on her as she gazed out the window.

"Do you like the car?" he asked.

"I'm in love, actually." She whimpered over the luxurious interior in an exaggerated manner. When she looked over at Michael he had a playful smirk on his face, it reminded Rain an awful lot of Isiah.

"Good," he said, "It's yours."

"WHAT!?" Rain's eyes went wild with disbelief. "YOU'RE JOKING!"

"I'm serious!" Michael laughed.

"DON'T FUCK WITH ME, MICHAEL!" She raged, backing away from him as he ushered towards her. "DON'T DO THIS TO ME! NOT LIKE THIS!" she took off the sunglasses and beamed them at him.

Michael dissolved into laughter as he tried grabbing hold of a frantic Rain. "Calm down!" he urged. Johnny's snickering grew louder with each of Rain's outbursts. Michael finally seized Rain's hands.

Her eyes were still wide with panic and her breathing went abnormal. "Don't lie to me!"

"Have I ever lied to you?" he questioned her with offense.

"But I lost the bet!" Rain exclaimed.

"Everyone knows you would've won if it weren't for Tommy's arrival." He said calmly. Rain finally stopped thrashing about. Her silence was enough for Michael to let go of her. "What would a man be without his word?"

Processing this news was like waiting for paint to dry. Rain had to pause for a moment and let out her excitement with each turn of the car. _My car?_

It was unbelievable, yet it was hers fair and square.

A mischievous smile crept on Rain's face. "You're damn right I would've won that fight." She sat back in _her_ car and lounged triumphantly next to Michael.

 _This is mine._

"It's not over yet, Rainy." Michael mentioned beside her, pulling out a smoke and lighting it between his lips. "It was a tie. You haven't told me your story."

Rain groaned with displeasure, sprawling out on the backseat. Her body shook with the car. "There's no winning with you."

"We've got a whole car ride to London." He insisted.

Rain sat up, "How about, if we both live after tonight I'll tell you everything on the way back to Birmingham."

Michael considered her condition briefly. He blew a streak of smoke onto Rain's face devilishly. "Deal."

Rain responded with a punch to his arm.

"Ow!" he exaggerated.

"Don't be a dickhead about it."

* * *

 _Thanks again for the reviews guys, they're always welcome. :)_


	17. Play the Part

"We're here." Johnny called out from the driver's seat.

Michael gingerly woke up Rain. She dozed off thirty minutes into the drive. When she shook herself out of her grogginess, it appeared as though the sun was still shining. After absorbing her surroundings, she realized it was just the bright lights of the city.

London.

Shinning cars, _just like her own_ , sped in all directions around monuments and towering buildings as Johnny drove through the heart of it all.

Ada was right.

This part of London was filled with men and women who dressed eccentrically and there was an entire sea of them. Waves of them poured out into the night ready for an event or a party. Women cheered and sang out as the men held them by the arm charmingly. Lights gleamed from all corners and angles to display the hyper activity that raged out in the city.

Rain bore out the window like a little girl. She yearned to step out, but her excitement quickly faded once Johnny drove them out of the lights behind a secluded building. For a moment she forgot there was a job to be done.

They were wedged in between an alleyway. Right when the tires came to a stop a figure opened the passenger door and slid inside.

It was Mr. Shelby.

"Michael, Rain," he greeted in a stoic manner. "Johnny, right on time. Nicely done."

"Aye, Tommy. Are the boys all set?" Johnny asked.

"Everything's taken care of." He reassured. "I want the Lee boys out back to prepare for any unscheduled escapes once the money is with John and Arthur." Mr. Shelby turned to Rain. "How are you feeling, Rain? Any second thoughts?"

A sincere question paired with a trick question. Rain understood why he asked. This was the first time Mr. Shelby spoke with Rain since the incident but he also wanted his men on their guard at all times.

"It's too late to back out now, so let's just get on with it." She muttered, still drowsy from her nap.

"That's what I like to hear." Mr. Shelby said. "Michael, you know which table to play at. Not too far from the back door, but close to the center of the casino."

"I've read the map, Tommy." Michael stated, "I'll find it with ease."

"Crimson's men will be watching from the second floor." Mr. Shelby continued. Rain could sense the subtle urgency in his tone. "Make enough winnings to bring their attention down to you. We need this game to go on for as long as possible. The boys will be in and out of Crimson's cache don't worry about that part. Once the lights go out, run. Understand?" He pointed at Michael. "You run. You take her and get the fuck out of there. Before that, just play the game with those fuckers. Is that clear, Rain?" His eyes bore straight through hers.

"Crystal." She said with a smile. The thrill of this heist was finally getting to her head. Weeks have passed since her last gamble. This was just another game to Rain.

"You're awful sure about yourself, Miss. Kinsley." Johnny cautioned, "Bibaxt! That's bad luck amongst our people, you know. You should know better."

"Johnny, even the highest Roma couldn't knock me down tonight." Rain expressed with charisma, "All I've got to do is count cards and I've been doing that for years."

* * *

The Crimson Casino was . . . lively. It was definitely a scene Rain had never imagined being a part of.

Noises of all kind hovered around from shuffling cards to rolling dice and falling chips. The air smelled like cigar smoke and there were men and women dancing around the perimeter to loud upbeat music that emitted from the stage. Trumpets, drums, and saxophone! It all raged within their bodies as they jived.

Astonishingly, Rain noticed men and women who looked like her. They had her eye shape and pale skin and they were paired with other foreign faces. It delighted Rain for some reason. Their casual dancing and interaction with each other was welcoming. No one batted an eye at how different this scene was. It was a shame Mr. Shelby planned on destroying it.

Michael had his arm over the small of Rain's back and held her side firmly as they walked through the jamming building. "Try not to stare." He whispered in her ear.

The rush of how close he was caused Rain to shudder a bit, but she quickly transgressed. "This place is so grand." She said back to him. "Tell me why we have to shut it down again?" She whispered playfully in his ear and held a hand over his chest as they walked around, not directly going for the assigned table.

Michael chuckled for show and held on to her hand. "Sweetheart, I suggest we keep our heads in the game." He stopped in place and raised Rain's gloved hand to his lips. Though the fabric covered the peck, Rain felt the heat of it even when he let go, sporting a cunning smile. "Or have you forgotten what's at stake?" He challenged.

Rain held herself closer to Michael and leaned forward, her eyelids lazily drooped over her grey eyes. Their lips were nearly touching. "Actually, darling, I haven't forgotten." She sighed, "The game starts and ends with us, remember?"

"And you're doing a fine job playing, Miss. Kinsley." He softly breathed. Michael stole a glimpse of Rain's blood red lips.

Rain beamed once she caught him, partly because his real self faltered through that facade, and also because it made her feel skittish inside though she kept herself levelheaded on the outside.

"I could say the same about you, Mr. Gray."

Before they could go any further, Rain pulled away. There was a job to complete . . . also Mr. Shelby or another Blinder was probably watching close by. This particular form of intimacy wasn't something she wanted to display to the world. Yet she ached to close that space between them. Michael seemed to understand when she broke away but kept an arm around her.

"We should head to the table now." Michael suggested.

"Lead the way." And Rain stepped forward with Michael.

As they mused from table to table, Rain began to notice the number of eyes that followed her. It wasn't in a suspicious manner; it was more of a lingering stare. She figured it was her flashy appearance. So Rain acted her part and responded with a sly grin. She felt bold and confidant sauntering through that casino. She was doing nothing wrong though it called the attention of other men and women with little effort. That was the point, wasn't it?

"Remind me to never buy you a black dress again."

Rain shot her head in Michael's direction. "I thought you liked the bloody dress!?" She exclaimed.

"That was before every man in this casino wouldn't stop staring at you." Michael held her closer as they walked on.

Rain scoffed in disbelief. "Do I sense jealousy boiling up in Michael Gray?"

"All a part of the game." Michael said, although he wasn't completely collected like his normal self.

 _If it's just for the game_ , she thought, _then it wouldn't matter if . . ._

Rain suddenly threw all her doubt away. She decided that if she were willing to risk her life for this game, she wouldn't think too much about playing the part.

She stopped in her tracks before heading for the table. "If that's what you're worried about," Rain anchored onto Michael, he was propelled back to her lightly. Both his arms were around Rain's waist as she placed hers around his neck. "Let's show them how the game works, Mr. Gray."

Without another thought, Rain leaned in for a kiss.

It was unexpected for Michael, but his shoulders relaxed once it became apparent that Rain wanted this. She felt Michael's grip tighten around her as their lips met. Rain curled her fingers through Michael's locks as he delved further into their embrace. Suddenly the roaring music and laughter dissolved into nothing, and she could only feel how Michael was holding her, how he danced with her tongue, how he wanted this just as much as she did even if it _was_ all for the _bloody_ game.

As Rain leaned back, Michael followed. If he were to let go of her, Rain would've fallen right to the floor, but his grip was strong. It enthralled Rain that he challenged her to let him fully have her even when she made the first move. Her thoughts were nowhere but with him.

Rain felt Michael smile against her lips and a laugh escaped her own once they broke away. When Rain opened her eyes, she found Michael gazing into hers. He finally loosened his arms around her and set her balance back on the floor. As the flaring sounds of the casino slipped back into her conscious, Rain let go of Michael and let out a breath. He was still in a trance, and made an effort to shake off the surprise. Rain couldn't help but laugh.

"Shall we play?"

* * *

Old men in expensive suits of all shapes and sizes with cigars in their mouths occupied the table Mr. Shelby assigned to the couple. They all bore the same cheeky faces and one even had a pretty girl sitting on his lap.

Rain stood near the half-moon table with Michael holding onto her with one arm.

"I'd like to join in."

"The games full, boy." An old man said at the other end of the table. He wore a white suit and had a few gold teeth. "Piss off and run back home." He laughed coldly with a bearded man beside him.

As the laughs continued, Michael pulled out a roll of notes and dropped them onto the table without another word.

The whole table dropped their insults and laughs. They all bore at Michael, all with one look on their faces: skepticism.

Michael grinned at the men. "I said," he stated coldly, "I'd like to join. If that's a problem, then we'll gladly leave."

As Michael reached for the money, the man in the white suit interjected, "All right, men. The boy wants in." He said and waved at Michael to sit. "Deal him in."

Rain and Michael were given seats at the other end of the blackjack table as swiftly as the man in the white suit changed his mind. Michael was given his money's worth in chips and had taken off his hat. Rain sat against him as if her were a part of her. She had to sit close enough for him to hear her without seeming suspicious. Rain had an arm around Michael's neck while the other was placed over his thigh under the table. It was enough to signal him the way they had discussed earlier.

The music hovered over them and laughter surrounded the casino. The sound level was enough to alter any information Rain would whisper in Michael's ear as sweet nothings. It was all too easy, she just had to bat her eyelashes and stare around as if she couldn't understand a thing that was going on. When really, she was analyzing the four other men that sat around the table.

The man in white was staring at Rain as if she were a prize. He sat right across from them and seemed like the bigger player by the number of chips on his side of the table. Money was not a problem for White Suit. The other two men with a beard and monocle beside him had fairly less chips and earlier their eyes bulged at the sight of Michael's buy in. They would eventually leave after a few losses. There was another man with a hat and a woman on his lap. Rain could see Hat's whole profile from where she sat. There wasn't anything off about the girl. She was simply his guest for the night.

"Come on, boy." White Suit began. "Time to play amongst men."

Rain reflected over Michael's behavior. He was in full control of his emotions and body language. It was as if nothing out of the ordinary happened a few moments ago.

 _That's good! . . . right?_

Rain quickly shook herself out of that mentality. This was neither the time nor place. She cursed Ada, mentally, for exposing her to silly circumstances regarding human emotion. Rain managed to focus once she remembered that she was here to play. She was gambling again. This is what she was good at.

She was good at reading people and counting cards.

 _Numbers_.

It was time to make another move.

White Suit placed in his bet and the game was in motion.

Cards were swept to each player. Rain could spot the tremor on Monocle's chin as White Suit raised the bets after eyeing his hand. Rain carefully watched as the players were dealt both of their cards and the dealer revealed only one of his cards. Her mind was already racing with different outcomes the four players around her could display. She had to get rid of three players and then Michael would bring out the crowd.

Rain held chin on Michael's shoulder and began to giggle lightly in his ear. "Lose big this round." Michael reacted as if she had said something wickedly erotic in his ear and raised the bet by ten pounds. He slid the chips up the green table.

Instantly, Monocle and Beard raised their bets as well. They undermined Michael's age and wealth, they assumed he was the son of a rich man and that Rain was a common whore. So they felt lucky. And Rain was going to give them what they wanted . . . for a few hands.

Rain slid her hand up Michael's leg. Up for a 'hit' and down to 'stand'. Michael's total after two hits summed to seventeen.

Monocle won this round against the dealer. He cackled with joy as Beard peered over at him with envy.

The dealer cleared the table and dealt a new hand with dexterity.

Rain fished through each outcome after canceling out the cards that were already faced up on the table. White Suit was in good hands, as well as Hat.

"Lose bigger," she cooed to Michael as White Suit caught her eye. He placed more chips on the table once Michael had. He wasn't growing uncertain, no, he only lagged on to the sight of Rain against Michael. How she pushed her chest against him and crossed her legs over his own. His greedy eyes slid over all of her and she wanted nothing more than to knock him onto the ground.

They both won a few more chips, a few more pounds, and it would be their last.

"Best you leave now, boy." White Suit barked in laughter as Michael's chips began to disappear. "Feel free to stay with us, Miss." He addressed Rain. "Maybe you can sit on my lap after the boy runs out. I'll win you a new dress."

It took every scrap of self-control Rain had in her to refrain from tearing the cigar from his bloody mouth and ramming it down his throat. As her anger boiled, Rain felt pressure on her thigh. Michael was signaling her for his next move, though his grasp was tighter under this circumstance. It was enough to ease Rain's urges. She simply smiled at White Suit, who failed to look away from her, while whispering to Michael.

"It's time to win, sweetheart."

Rain had collected every card that was dealt in one part of her brain. She had set everything in motion once Michael had lost a few rounds. She would show no mercy.

The next hand was dealt.

Michael put all his chips on the table as Rain instructed him by brushing her fingers around his neck repeatedly. He inclined his chin towards her as the men laughed once more at his risky move. Rain slid her hand up his leg once more. Catching Michael's eyes flare at her motion compelled her thoughts to stray from the game, but Rain forced herself to look away.

As Michael signaled the dealer to hit him with another card, he struck an Ace. It was just what he needed to sum his two tens to 21. It was just what Rain was counting on.

"Look, darling! You've won!" Rain gasped with an exaggerated happiness and clapped as if he'd done something extraordinary. It pained her to act this way, but the startled men around her made up for it.

"It appears as though I have," Michael took off his suit and leaned forward onto the counter of the table. "How about it, love?" he asked Rain, "Should I keep playing."

Rain eyed the hall encircling the floor above. The guards were still roaming, and that needed to be dealt with. "Win me ten new dresses." she purred to Michael.

The men on the table hushed as Michael collected his winnings. It wasn't what he started with, but that was going to change quickly. "What do you say, boys?" Michael beamed, "Let's have another round?"

One by one, the players on the table grew frustrated with their losses. They grew confused when Michael would keep signaling for more hits and suddenly stand for a hand. None of Rain's alluring actions played on Michael indicated her as the puppeteer behind his winnings. It was a normal scene involving a young rich boy and his pretty girl. There was nothing suspicious about it.

It was so simple, yet genius.

Beard and Monocle tossed their handful of chips aside before storming off. White Suit was still strong, but Hat was the one who was gambling his tiny fortune. As Michael's pile of chips grew, so did the crowd around him.

People cheered for every win Michael miraculously seemed to charge through, oblivious to the fact that it was all Rain's doing. Because he was young, handsome, and winning a fortune Michael effortlessly caught the attention of the guests, as well as the attention of the guards.

When Rain peered up from her most recent celebration for Michael's win, she saw that the guards were no longer surveying the halls.

 _The plan had worked._

The men dressed in black suits were now on the first floor, closing in on their table. This meant Mr. Shelby's boys were in action.

 _Only a few moments longer_ , Rain pushed herself. Playing stupid was hard work. Cheering for every win along with their audience was rather tiring.

"What are you gaping at?" Rain stormed charismatically at the dumbfounded dealer. "Come on, let's have another game!" The people behind her encouraged Michael alongside Rain to keep gambling his money, to see if he'd win more, to be there if he were to lose it all.

After another hand, it was only White Suit and Michael. He showed no sign of astonishment. He sat there with a fresh cigar and a few handfuls of chips. Three men in black suits found their way behind him. And he was staring directly at Rain.

Rain wrapped her arms around Michael and kissed his cheek after his win. "I think it's best if we leave soon." She whispered loudly enough in Michael's ear as the crowd raged for Michael.

"The lights haven't gone off, yet." Michael said to her cautiously. He pulled away from her but they were still close enough to appear though they were about to lock lips. "Are you all right?"

"I'm not too sure about this one," she cocked her head slightly towards White Suit. "He seems like bad news."

Michael subtly looked at White Suit and noticed the guards. "Just for a bit longer, Rain. " he reassured her. "Can you do that for me?"

Rain nodded slowly. Michael lingered close to her for a second longer before turning away. Rain let out a shaky breath. This was almost over.

"You've seemed to acquire a bit of luck along the way, boy." White Suit commented over the noise. "Why gamble when you can cash out?"

Rain grasped onto Michael's hand under the table. _Fraternizing with strange men was not a part of the plan._

"I play for the thrill." Michael replied, "not for the money." There was not a hint of doubt in his voice. His calm nature didn't surprise Rain, for he never seemed to be intimidated by anyone. Not even Mr. Shelby.

"Ah," White Suit took a long drag of his meaty cigar. "That's where we are alike."

As Rain grew still, she felt Michael pulse her hand with his own. It was reassuring and brought her back into character, but she couldn't help but wearily gawk at White Suit's irregular appearance. There was something about the way he spoke and how he would pronounce a few words that seemed _off._

The crowd seemed to slip away slowly as Michael and White Suit refrained from betting.

"I assume you're now going to tell me how we are different." Michael finally leaned back in his chair, though his hand still held onto Rain's.

"For one," White Suit started, "I actually know how to play." and that's when White Suit's intonation faltered. Rain caught on to the slip in his accent.

It wasn't British at all.

Rain clenched Michael's hand once more with urgency and hoped that her realization did not reach her face.

"What makes you think that?" Michael questioned.

Suddenly, White Suit steered his attention to Rain and displayed his gold teeth. He looked at her the way a lion would at his prey. "It was nice to finally meet you, Rain Cassin."

Before Rain could respond the entire casino went black.


	18. Escape

"Rain!"

 _Cassin?_

"Get the girl!"

 _How does he know?_

"We have to run, Rain!"

 _How did he get that name!?_

"Rain, for fuck's sake!"

Without warning, Rain felt someone clench on to her body and push her out of her chair. Every thought in Rain's anxious mind was suddenly thrown into a dark pit.

There was only black.

Not a single light was visible.

"Rain?"

 _Michael?_ Amidst the shock, the girl had no control over her voice.

A pair of strong arms helped her to her feet. "Rain! Come on, you're all right!"

It _was_ Michael!

He grabbed her hand and ran through the loud darkness. Rain could see nothing. She could hear the frightened voices of unseen people and felt the bodies of strangers slam onto her as she was being dragged through this black maze.

Michael abruptly stopped in his tracks and Rain slammed into his body. Heavy men were running towards them, she could hear their arrival as the voices of people they were running into grew closer to them.

Michael was struggling with something on a wall. A door! It was the backdoor!  
Rain's heart raced as the men grew closer. She could do nothing but wait in a panicked silence as Michael thrashed his weight against the door.

Once.

Twice.

Before his third try, Rain grabbed hold of Michael's arm, "Together!"

He agreed without words and stepped back once more with haste. The two charged forward with all their might and threw themselves against the door. In that final attempt the door creaked open.

Rain could already feel the pain on her shoulder howling, but there was light!

 _Light!_

A streak of moonlight slid through the compromised door. There was something wedged on the other side preventing it from fully opening.

Lightening and thunder cracked from beyond the door.

"They're headed for the back!" a man yelled from behind.

The men were so close. Michael desperately threw his shoulder against the door. Rain was pushing right alongside him, her nerves were suddenly taking over, but Michael managed to slip through and hop onto the crate blocking the exit. The door was still stuck, but Rain's heart melted at the sight of that opening.

Michael was on the other side, it was pouring heavily. Rain terribly wished to be beside him as the voices were practically next to her.

"Let's go, Rain!" Michael's green eyes went wide in this dire state.

The sight of him sent Rain crashing through the door. She pushed herself up from the base of the crate and jumped so that her knees fell on top. As fast as she could, Rain grabbed onto a drenched Michael.

Fear was an emotion Rain rarely fell victim to. Her insides screamed to crawl up her throat and escape from this madness.

Michael pulled her torso through. The rain didn't take away from his agility, but there was a sudden tight grip on Rain's right leg. She went flying back through the door. Rain cried out as the force pulled her, causing her elbows to scrape against the loose nails of the wooden crate. The stinging pain was irrelevant compared to how fiercely she wanted to get through that door.

Michael quickly grabbed hold of Rain's hands that were searching for an anchor that wasn't slippery with rainwater. She dug her nails into the palm of his hands but the force was too strong and his hands were too wet.

"Michael!" Rain cried out as she was tugged between the exit. "Let go of my hands!"

"What!?" He argued. "Are you fucking mad!?" The lightening strike shined right over Michael's bewildered face.

"JUST FUCKING DO IT!"

Without another moment of hesitation, Michael let go.

Rain flew back through the door and the last thing she saw was Michael's face frozen in horror.

As the darkness consumed her once more, Rain's restrainer was thrown back in that unexpected lack of force from the other side. His head hit the floor with a loud crash as Rain forced herself off his body with her heels. Rain was on her feet again and reached for the blade in her stocking.

 _Polly's blade._

Before she could make another move, another grunting figure latched on to her throat from behind. She was suddenly lifted off the ground, her slippery heels slid off the man's legs.

Rain's lungs ached for oxygen as the figure refused to let go, but she didn't dare let her blade fall, even as her mind was failing her. Without another second to spare, Rain sliced the dagger across the figure's arm. She heard him cry out as the blade cut deep into his meaty arms. Rain felt the blade brush across his bone.

As his grip loosened and his wailing intensified, Rain fell to the ground. Her lungs were gifted with the blessing of air as she struggled to get on her feet. Without looking book, Rain pushed opened the door as much as she could before jumping through it. She felt another pair of hands struggle to grab hold of her as she embraced the stormy night, but Rain's adrenaline boosted her speed. She scampered across the crate on all fours. Rain was greeted by Michael's relieved image once she climbed off the large crate and into his arms.

"You're bleeding!" he held up her elbows into view once she was on her feet. The blood was dripping and integrating with the rain that landed on her arms. However, it wasn't serious enough for Rain to ponder over. Her fear was not yet gone from her body.

"It doesn't matter-" she pulled away from Michael's concern as a harsh thud emitted over the thunder.

The men on the other side were forcing the crate out of the way _, and they were fast_. Rain felt Michael grab her hand, but he didn't have to say anything in order for her to start moving.

The two rushed through the storm as if it were their last night to live. Their only delay involved Rain as she kicked her heels off into the other direction of an intersection before taking off with Michael again.

Her breathing grew heavier as the temperature of the rain pouring down on her decreased ten-fold. Rain was shivering as she ran beside Michael. The back alleys of the London were much smaller than in Birmingham. They turned a sharp corner and found a slim opening between two buildings. Michael led Rain into the corner and they both wedged together in hopes that no one would look there.

Rain had her back to the wall as Michael covered her body with his. They were both heaving to catch their breath. Rain had fallen forward on Michael's chest as her fatigue began to take over. The rain was scarcely falling upon the two due to the small foyer above them, but the cold didn't stop itself from enveloping Rain.

"You're all right, Rain." Michael soothed in between breaths. He had one arm on the brick wall and the other held up Rain's chin.

She tried holding up her heavy body as Michael touched her, but she couldn't find the strength.

Michael placed his forehead on hers. "Look at me, Rain." He urged softly. "You're all right."

Rain nodded her head against Michael's. Her eyes never left his, as heavy as they were. She had forgotten all about the men chasing her, the man in the white suit, or the fact that he knew her name. It didn't matter with Michael at her side. In a few more minutes she won't have to worry about anyone related to the casino because Mr. Shelby had taken care of it.

"We did it," Rain muttered in a daze.

Michael breathed a laugh against her, "That's right. Everything went as planned thanks to you."

"Aren't you angry with me?" she asked.

"Why should I be angry with you?" Michael humored.

Rain was taken aback, _two laughs in one night_. "Because I kissed you." She stated.

To Rain's surprise, Michael beamed at her eccentrically. It was so very wicked, yet it managed to warm her limbs. "What is it?" she whined.

Without another word, Michael closed the space between them. He held on to Rain by her neck and waist as he pulled her to closer to him. Rain delved into his arms and surrendered her body to Michael the moment his lips touched hers.

It was nothing like the kiss in the casino. Rain had never felt such craze inside as Michael toyed with her lips and held onto her as if she were ready to slip away.

She never wanted to be so close to someone and have him touch her like that, _her waist, her sides, her neck, her hair_. She never let her entire soul dissolve into a kiss.

 _A kiss._

It was a deep kiss that could've lasted an entire lifetime under that rain.

Rain was in Michael's full control. She made no protests as he held every part of her and lightly pushed her against the brick wall. Michael finally pulled away once Rain slightly whimpered under his brush.

Her breathing was far heavier than when she was running. When Rain opened her eyes she found Michael, but he was a completely different person.

"I'm only angry because I didn't kiss you first." He breathed.

Rain rammed her fist against Michael's chest. He suppressed a howl of pain, "What are you-"

"-Well you could've told me that instead of attacking my face with yours!" she jibed.

"You liked it." He teased devilishly, closing in on her once more.

"Shut up." Rain pushed herself away from Michael but couldn't help but smile as he fought to get close to her. "Go kiss a rat."

"I want to kiss you." He said to Rain once his lips were only a breath away.

Rain gazed into his bright green eyes. She could've easily let him kiss her all night. There was nothing more she wanted than to stay drenched in that corner all night if it meant that she could kiss Michael.

"We have to go, Michael." Rain whispered softly against his lips.

He let a moment of hesitation pass before letting go of Rain. It pained her to feel him break away, more than the pain she was enduring from that nasty escape. When Michael held her hand as he led the way, Rain told herself there would be more once they were safely home. It was all that kept her from pouncing onto him.

She walked close to him in the rain. The dark alleys were empty as they treaded on, struggling to find the Lee boys, or Mr. Shelby, even John at this point would excite Rain. She just wanted to get home.

As they turned another corner, Rain's heart fell into pieces.

They were nowhere near the casino, and yet there stood White Suit encircled by ten of his black suited men.

Michael and Rain bolted in the other direction, but there were three large men waiting for their escape. The two rammed into them and were thrown off by the collision.

 _No._

One of them restrained Rain's arms and pulled her away from Michael's grasp. The other two began took hold of Michael. It happened so unexpectedly that Rain's fear even took a moment to resurface.

 _NO!_

"Michael!" Rain cried as a large man restricted her from running to him. She shook and powered her body within the man's grip as she watched Michael struggled to break free.

"Bring them forward."

Rain was shoved over to White Suit. He stood in the rain as if it were his friend and smiled. It delighted him to see Rain this way, to see her in his control.

She could hear Michael grunting in anger as the two men tackled him to the ground.

"Dispose of the boy!" White Suit commanded.

With this command, Rain's entire soul began to shout in horror.

"WAIT!" she cried. "WAIT! PLEASE!" Rain couldn't recognize her own voice as she desperately yelled for his attention.

Rain looked back and saw Michael on his knees with one man holding him down and the other holding out a gun pointed directly at his head. He cocked the gun.

"WAIT, MR. CRIMSON!" she shouted desperately at the man in the white suit. He raised his brows at her outburst and held out a hand. Rain saw that the man put his gun away. Her heart began to beat normally for that brief moment of mercy. Michael's eyes were on her and she wished for nothing but to run away with him, and yet she was in the control of this fucking man in the white suit.

"You want me!" she urged, "Let him go and I'll come without a fight."

"NO!" Michael demanded. "RAIN! NO! YOU CAN'T!"

Rain couldn't look at him, but she could hear the sound of him fighting with those who held him down. She was looking straight at Mr. Crimson. He studied her carefully as she stood still in his man's grasp. She managed to hide her tears with the falling rain.

"I promise you, I will cooperate. Just let him go." Her voice broke as she pleaded. "You want Rain Cassin. You've got her. He's no one, please! Just leave him."

Mr. Crimson wallowed in Rain's begging. He cherished every second of her fear and submission to her. As his gaze left hers, he addressed his men.

"Fuck up the boy and throw him in the alley." He ordered, gold teeth gleaming.

Rain let out a sigh of relief, but as she did, a white cloth was held against her mouth. The man who held her cut her breathing short. Rain wrestled in his grasp as he forced the cloth over her. The smell was intoxicating; it stunned her panic within the next second of fighting.

As she fell silent, Rain caught a glimpse of Michael. Was he yelling her name? She couldn't hear. She only saw his bloody face and how hard he fell to the ground as her eyes failed her. And for the second time that night, her world went black.


	19. Mr Crimson

_Could something highly pain inducing render a person mad?_

Rain grew puzzled over how her body reacted to the torment she was facing as the darkness faded. It no longer hurt when the man in the mask cut her.

He was creative, this man. He managed to slice the most prominent parts of Rain down her arms, on her neck, across her cheek. However, he grew impatient with her lack of enthusiasm and cut along each finger. As much as she wanted him to let her fingers fall, the man in the mask refused to ease any discomfort, no matter how hard Rain bellowed in that dark room.

This time, he was asking her the same question over and over. The same fucking questions she had no idea how to answer without receiving another strike.

"Where are the jewels?" he grunted, slapping her across the face.

 _No imagination this time, what a shame._

Rain spat out a new puddle of blood as she swung from the chair she was bound to wearing that sack of a shirt. She could taste the saltiness of it in her mouth. "I don't . . . fucking know." She whimpered. It was the same answer time and time again.

She felt nothing when he stuck her once more as a door opened. Rain's head dropped to her chest. There was no pain, but she was exhausted from the repeated affliction from this masked man. As she let her head down lethargically, the sound of heavy footsteps made their way close to Rain.

Her vision was beginning to fail her, but when she managed to look up, Rain found the white figure in a chair a few feet in front of her. The old man had greying hair and gold teeth. Never did a white suit vex Rain more than when Mr. Crimson wore it. He sat amused in his seat. Rain lazily looked away. The sight of him made her sick.

"I'll make this quick, Rain." His American accent was in full force. He was no longer hiding behind his clever façade. It was the one feature Rain detected that made clear this man was Mr. Jack Bowery Crimson. "I can't keep you with me for long."

A cigar was lit in the dark room. Rain could smell the smoke drift around the murky room.

"I've been made aware of your relationship with Thomas Shelby. It seems as though you were working together last night." He mentioned.

 _That was last night?_

"And that boy you convinced me to let go . . . he was a fucking Shelby too."

 _Michael . . . He's all right?_

"Every certificate, deed, and penny I had in my casino was taken from me . . . but I'm not angry, no!" he humored. "No, I'm delighted!"

Rain shuddered as Mr. Crimson jumped out of his seat and crouched down to her.

"Look at me, Miss. Cassin!" he cackled, "I'm happy! I still have some money, I still have my connections! I'm especially happy because _I found you_!" A gust of smoke hit Rain's face. "Now I've dealt with two Cassin's this past year."

At this Rain lifted her head.

Mr. Crimson's wicked expression intensified as Rain reacted to this information. He backed away with that triumphant smug. "There it is!" he applauded. "There's that Cassin blood! Fighting even when the life has been knocked out of you! That's how your father left this world."

Rain's limbs went numb.

"That's right, my dear. I've had the pleasure of finding your father just last year with the help of your French family."

She could practically hear her heart drumming within her ears.

"They found him five years back. He managed to run away and we've been looking for him for a while now, years, actually . . . but when we found him, he didn't have what we were looking for." Mr. Crimson sat back in his chair. "Do you know what I want?"

Rain's breathing went unsteady with each passing second, with each sliver of information this man blurted out.

"We want those African diamonds . . . and we know you have them-"

"-I don't fucking have the diamonds!" Rain barked, it echoed through the empty room. Rain lowered her head again in defeat. A quiet sob escaped from her. " . . . I don't know . . ."

 _Father's dead . . ._

It hadn't occurred to Rain that her father could've died. Yes, he left her years ago, and she hated him for leaving, but to find out that he could've been taken from her and killed all in one minute left her heart broken.

She loathed any memory of him for so long. Rain drove out any happy thought about her father a month after he failed to come home. Five months later she decided to forget he was a good father. A year later Rain had forgotten she had a father at all.

And it all could've been for nothing.

The remainder of what love she had for her father was suppressed because he had been protecting her for so long. It agonized Rain to even think about what horrible things she once wished for him.

"All right, Miss. Cassin." Mr. Crimson stepped forward and forced Rain to look up at him with his ring covered hand. "This is what you're going to do." He crouched back down to her, without letting her jaw go.

Rain leered at him with disgust. Her tears trailed down her cheeks hot with anger.

 _This man killed her father. This is the man she was going to kill._

"You're going to use that clever little brain of yours and dig through every small crevice of it in order to find my diamonds." Mr. Crimson leaned right up to her face. "You're going to pay back every penny Mr. Shelby took from me in those diamonds . . . or you'll die screaming like your fucking father."

Mr. Crimson let got of Rain's jaw but remained inches from her. Rain could see every bit of madness in his bleak black eyes. "You know, when I held the gun up to his head. William was blurting out random things. I think Bruno, back there, bashed his head more than anything. That's how he told us about you, Rain. About how much the _rain_ is a genius and how asking the _rain_ would help us find the diamonds . . . but he refused to tell me that ' _rain'_ was the name of his child . . . So I shot him as if he were a mad horse."

As Mr. Crimson laughed in her face, Rain's spat on him without thinking. Her spite got the best of her and she received a hard slap from the fucking Crimson himself. The sound of it echoed, and Rain felt another cut form on her face.

"Funny . . ." he said, "William did the same thing to me when those French Gypsies handed him over." He stood up and walked away once more, back to his chair. "They gave him to me after they found him, _your family,_ Rain. They told me he left France with his whore and bastard and their diamonds. They told me about how he ran off with a Chinese whore and how clever their child was . . . all for money." Mr. Crimson wiped his face with his pocketed handkerchief. "I gladly gave them the money, because I knew I would get a fortune out of it." He threw the bloodstained handkerchief in Rain's face. "And I'm going to get my money's worth . . . or I'll kill you and that Shelby boy of yours."


	20. White Room

It was a new dark room. This one had bars. The cell door was the first thing Rain caught sight of when she was awoken by a copper.

"Oi! Get on your feet!" He barked.

Rain strived to obey his thundering command, but her legs failed her. When she tried raising her arms, hefty manacles restricted them.

The chains rang sporadically in her ears as if they were cymbals. Her head was pounding, her cuts burned, her throat was on fire, her legs weren't moving. It all horribly affected her senses in that moment of revival.

The officer rammed his nightstick upon the bars. The clanging noise vibrated Rain's bones and she cried out in protest, pleading for the sounds to stop. She wanted it all to stop, the pain, and the discomfort, for everything to cease from existing.

The cell doors swung open. Rain felt two pairs of hands grab on to each of her arms. She was raised to her feet and there was nothing she could do to refuse it. Her hair covered her heavy eyes. She didn't have the energy to move it out of her face. Either way, she couldn't control where she was going, there was no reason to see.

"She's for Mr. Shelby!" The officer announced. "Onward!"

Promptly, Rain was ushered out of the cell. Her body lagged along with the other two officers who carried her. She couldn't stop her feet from stumbling on the stone floor. It was bone-chillingly cold against her bare feet.

"On your feet!" He commanded again.

Rain forced her cries of pain away as she trudged through that dark hallway of cells in heavy deliria. Her shackles were weighing her shoulders down as she walked. Once the guards halted before a door, she was let go and instantly fell on to the ground from that crushing weight.

A guard crouched down to unchain her. The key locked in place and Rain felt the release of the metal slip away with a relieving sigh. She held her wrists in attempt to sooth the scorching burns of their once tight embrace. The officers then rushed to pick her up. Rain was on her feet once the door was opened and sunlight pierced through.

She had forgotten that the sun existed. Anything beyond the darkness was forgotten for a short while.

As her sensitive vision cleared from hours of staring into darkness, Rain spotted a few figures on the other side. Michael stood with Polly at his side. Mr. Shelby was not too far behind.

Rain was suddenly pushed out into the open. It may have been a small nudge, but any force on her was massively effective at this stage of her dementia. The prison was now behind her and she wobbled across the pavement as if it were her first time using her legs.

Rain figured she looked ghostly as she walked forward. Michael, and even Polly, gaped at her image.

The sunlight was blinding enough for her to squint at the sight of Michael rushing up to her limping form. As she fell into his embrace, Rain let out an unsteady sigh of relief. He was warm and welcoming, something so different from what she endured for the past 48 hours. It was almost like she was dreaming up this sound sensation.

Michael kept telling her she was all right and held on to her as if she were ready to shatter into pieces. His words were light but Rain could detect the panic in his tone, even in her current state of mind. She wanted to tell him she was fine now, that everything was okay, yet her words could not form. Her lips failed her as well her mind.

Rain simply drifted away. She drifted away from her exhaustion and wounds and fell back into the darkness of her mind. She knew she was safe . . . for now.

* * *

From within the darkness came the light.

Though the white room was slightly visible, Rain could hear most of what was being said around her. The conversations and figures would fade in and out with her consciousness.

"You have to do something, Tommy." Someone urged. It sounded female, young and bold. "She almost died from this fucking job!"

"We can only wait until she wakes, Ada." A calmer voice said. "We have to know what Crimson's intentions are, what he wanted with her." He sounded frustrated and tired.

"He knew her real name." _It was Michael_. "This problem starts with her father, William Cassin."

Rain was positive it was him. He sat closest to her and spoke solemnly. His blurry image was to her right. How she ached to reach out and tell him she was all right. It was the drowsiness of the drugs that held her at bay.

"That's a French Gypsy name." An older woman muttered. She was too far for Rain to identify, but that tight voice was one she could never forget. "She lied about her father."

"If it would lead to this," Ada defended, "I wouldn't think twice in order to lie about it."

"If you're going to argue this loudly best take it outside." Michael stated coldly. Though he didn't raise his voice, Rain perceived his angst. It wasn't too difficult to detect when Michael Gray was irritated.

"While we're out, can't we help with _something_?" Ada chided.

"All right," Mr. Shelby said, "We'll take a few steps while we wait for her to wake up. I'll go speak with the Lees. Maybe Johnny knows the name."

" _Finally_ ," Ada breathed, "I can't stand to sit here and watch her like this, knowing that you aren't fucking doing anything about it."

"Ada, you stay here and look after Rain. I don't trust these nurses." Mr. Shelby instructed.

"You don't need to tell me twice." She grumbled.

"Let's go, Michael." Polly opened the door near the end of the room. Rain could hear the figures in the room shifting, ready to leave.

"I'm staying."

No movement. For one second, Rain couldn't detect a sound.

Rain wondered, in that state of incoherence, if the adults in the room were baffled with his decision to stay. Should there have been an important reason for him to remain with her?

"I can manage here, Michael." Ada addressed him softly. "She's going to be fine."

"We need you back at the office, Michael." It was Mr. Shelby this time. He, too, sounded slightly apprehensive about Michael's statement. "There's work do be done, lad, come on." He urged. "I need you there so I can sort out the story behind this name."

Footsteps grew closer to Rain and they stopped next to Michael. "I'll send word for you as soon as she wakes up. I promise." Ada quietly said.

There was another quick moment of silence. As Michael shifted out of his seat, Rain could no longer bear the world around her, and she descended into a deep sleep once more.

* * *

Of all the times Rain would swing in and out of consciousness, this was the strongest she ever felt. Before opening her eyes she told herself not to keep her hopes up. She could easily fall back asleep with all the drugs she was consuming.

The room was heavenly lit by the sunlight emitting through the window above her. Flecks of dust were visibly drifting within those rays of illumination. Seeing them struck life in Rain's heart. Her bones no longer ached, but she still didn't have the strength to lift herself out of the bed. When she looked down, she saw that she wore a white tunic. It was clean, but revealed the white bandages scattered around her arms and fingers. She wiggled her toes and felt the cloth restraining her from doing so.

Visions of a black room filled with sharp metals made way to her thoughts. Rain winced at the emotions it riled in her. She forced the visions away.

 _Not right now,_ she commanded herself.

"Rain?"

Rain shot her head in the direction of the voice and sat up. Her body cried in objection to this abrupt movement. The girl grimaced before laying eyes on the woman who called her by her name. She sat to Rain's right, where Michael and Ada once sat.

Her hair was as golden as the sunlight that peered through. She had kind eyes, but there was much more to this woman, Rain could sense that much. Why else would she be here?

"Who are you?" Rain croaked. She reached her hand to her throat once that foreign voice broke out.

"Don't be frightened, Rain." The woman inched closer to Rain's bed.

"I'm not-" Rain coughed heavily as she attempted to speak. The woman handed her a glass of water that sat on the counter beside the cot. Rain eyed it cautiously with tears ready to fall.

"If I wanted you dead, my dear, you wouldn't be awake right now." The woman jested. She had an Irish accent, a soft voice, but there was a fight inside of her. "Drink." She commanded.

Rain reached out for the glass and took hold of it attentively. She didn't trust the woman, but her argument was valid. As Rain consumed the water it soothed the harsh phlegm that plagued her.

"Where's Ada?" Rain interrogated.

"She needed to look after Karl for a few hours, I told her I'd take a shift."

Rain placed the glass back onto the counter without taking her eyes off of this woman, who was apparently welcomed into her room.

"You're a fighter, aren't you?" the woman said, observing Rain. "I see myself in you. The things Tommy has told me . . . I can imagine what a girl so young could do without her parents in this world."

"Can you?" Rain inquired in a broken voice.

"I lost my father a while back too," the woman informed Rain, "but if I were in your position, I'm not sure I would be here today."

Rain studied the peculiar woman before her. She spoke kindly, yet has endured much more horrors than the eye could see. Everything about her appeared elegant and well put, there was only one way she was a part of the Shelby family.

"You're Mr. Shelby's bride to be." Rain made sense of it all.

The woman smiled, "What made you guess?"

Rain shrugged, "You seem like a strong lady . . . just the right match for a dark man."

At this, the woman laughed. It was a musical laugh. Rain rather enjoyed the sound of it.

"You _are_ a clever girl."

"Clever enough to nearly get myself killed." Rain breathed. She relaxed herself on the comforter, ready for the darkness to find her once more. "No offense, ma'am." she looked back.

"Please, call me Grace." She said in her soft voice.

It was strange meeting the future Mrs. Shelby. Grace was always spoken about in the office, but she never visited. It was as if she didn't want to be a part of Mr. Shelby's business. In a way, she was similar to Ada. Both women would most definitely kill for their family, if it would come to that, but they weren't obligated to accept their family's way of income.

"What brings you here, Ms. Grace? Don't you have a big event to plan?" Rain said.

"That's part of the reason why I'm here, my dear. You see, I wanted to personally invite you to our wedding."

Rain held off from falling into another doze. This time she didn't trust her own ears once Grace spoke. "Why would you want to do that?"

Grace held in another soft laugh. "Any friend of Tommy's is a friend of mine." She wedged herself closer to Rain and spoke a bit more seriously, though even that was an elegant melody. "You've helped this family a great deal by saving Michael, Rain, more than you could possibly know . . . and for that we owe you the world."

Rain didn't think of it that way. She didn't expect anything out of saving Michael. She simply wanted him out of that mess. The very thought of Michael being in Crimson's hands alarmed Rain. At the time, she didn't question why she fought for Michael to live. The urge came naturally, and she'd do it again if it meant he didn't have to suffer.

"You care a lot for him?" Grace asked.

Rain tore herself away from pondering any further into what might've happened if Michael didn't live, if Crimson knew that Michael was a Shelby before she convinced him to let him go. She let the angelic sight of Grace sooth her worries away and suddenly realized why Mr. Shelby had fallen for her.

"I do." Rain said.

"Well, you've won him over. I can tell you that much." Grace mused. "He's been in and out of this room more times than I can count."

"Don't tell Polly that." Rain jested softly, although she was only half joking.

"You shouldn't let her bother you."

"Hearing that makes me think she's given _you_ trouble for being with Mr. Shelby."

Grace raised her brows at Rain, "Hearing _that_ makes me think you'll do just fine when dealing with Polly."

Rain tried not to emote, for it hurt her ribs, but she managed to exhale a weak laugh. "If you're getting married to Mr. Shelby then maybe I'll live."

"Don't let anyone tell you how to live your life, Rain." Grace gently stated. "It's the one thing you _can_ control."

The more Rain was in the presence of Grace, the more she was growing to like her.

Grace stood up from her chair quietly, "It was wonderful to finally meet you, Rain. I'll let a nurse know you've woken up." She said, heading for the door.

Rain silently nodded in comprehension.

"Do you have a dress for the wedding?" Grace asked before walking out, ". . . Or a suit?"

Rain smiled with what little energy she had left, "I've got a dress."


	21. Diamonds (M)

The night was filled with darkness, but within that abyss of black matter reigned eons of light. Rain could remember looking out and finding specks of glowing stars amongst the inky black canvas one would call the sky. The colors changed often, but the feeling was always the same. Even within darkness there was life.

Finding Michael sleeping beside her cot in that dark room emitted that same feeling inside Rain.

She woke up, maybe hours ago, with Ada at her side. Rain could only recall being force-fed a bowl of slop that was supposed to 'make her feel better', according to Ada. After downing that entire bowl, Rain had fallen asleep once more.

Seeing Michael was more pain relieving than that bowl of shit.

Rain's breathing picked up once she caught sight of him. It joyed her to see that he was the only one in her hospital room, so much that she had enough energy to sit up by herself. Rain moved carefully so that her legs swung over the edge of the bed. As she shifted, the creaking bed disturbed Michael's sound figure. It took a moment for him to shake off his sleep, and then he noticed her.

"Rain," he whispered through a quick yawn. Michael leaned forward in his chair and reached for her hand gingerly. She felt the warmth of his touch spread throughout her body. "What are you doing?" he asked quietly.

"I wanted to come to you," she whispered back. The sight of him, even the touch of him raged life within her. "I didn't want to wake you."

Michael slid his chair closer to Rain's bed. He was now sitting directly in front of her legs, looking up at Rain, both hands in her own.

"I'm here now." He said.

Rain held onto his gaze for a moment longer without speaking. He was tired, so very tired. She could see it written all over his face. Rain let go of his hands and reached up to Michael's forehead. She brushed aside his messy hair with her fingers. Michael held on to her wrists and closed his eyes as Rain silently slid her fingers down his bruised face. She felt his breathing shift with each cut she moved on to.

 _He got away, but they still hurt him_.

"Michael," she breathed soundlessly, "When was the last time you went home?" she asked.

"That doesn't matter." He said, resting his head on top of Rain's lap.

"It matters to me," Rain curled her fingers in his hair with one hand, and held Michael's left hand with the other. "You shouldn't be acting foolish like this, you'll fall sick."

"I wanted to be here when you woke up." He muttered against her thighs.

"Well I'm here and I'm all right." She reassured him, "You don't have to worry about me."

Michael looked up at Rain without letting go of her hand. "How do you expect me to do that after all this shit, Rainy Day?" he questioned. His dazed speech made him seem much younger than he really was. It uplifted Rain's heart to see him this way. Michael was broken on the outside yet his confrontational traits prospered through all the hardship he faced this week.

"I'm sure you've been through far worse." Rain teased as he laid his head back down. "Does that mean I worried you, Mr. Gray?"

"Don't play like that, Rain." His hand pulsed over hers. " . . . I can't imagine what you had to do to get out."

Rain didn't want to revisit that memory. She condemned anything from her time with Crimson out of her thoughts. She wanted nothing to do with it while she was with Michael. He was here with her, and that's all that mattered.

"I'm out, aren't I?"

"Miraculously, yes."

"How dare you, Michael Gray!" Rain jeered quietly, "You really think I wouldn't have found my way out of there? I've beaten you at a fight, I bet I can take on anything."

Michael laughed softly against her skin. It shot a hot current up her spine. Rain tensed up slightly, causing Michael to ascend from her touch. "What's wrong?" he asked anxiously.

Rain let out a slow breath. "Nothing," she shook her head, slightly embarrassed for how he affected her. "I'm just . . ."

Michael waited patiently for Rain to finish her sentence. She drifted off at the sight of his drooping eyelids, at his square jaw. His hair was messy and clothes were disheveled but it only added to his rugged appearance. Everything looked more alluring in the moonlight. Rain had never been more entrapped by Michael than when he looked up at her like that, as if she were the only light left in this bleak world.

"You're just?" he smiled devilishly.

Rain felt his hands gradually glide up her legs. Her breathing hitched at his contact. She bent her head down as he stretched up to meet her halfway. Michael let one more breath pass between them before finally brushing his lips against Rain's.

When their lips met, it was like nothing harmful had happened to them this past week. Rain's tense bones no longer yearned for ease because Michael took the soreness away with his embrace. She felt his hands latch on to her waist, refusing to break away from their kiss. Rain wrapped her bandaged arms around Michael's neck as he stood up from the chair. She tilted her sideways as he slid up. Rain expanded her legs around Michael once he was on his feet.

A soft whimper left Rain's lips as she fully immersed herself into Michael's arms. Her insides jolted with fire as he laced his fingers in her hair. Their exhaustion was let out all at once in each other's arms. They've been building up their restraint for weeks and it was all tapped into play within that moment of freedom.

Michael pulled away as their embrace grew stronger. Rain opened her eyes to find him breathing just as heavily as she was. Her chest heaved with each second that passed. He hesitated with half-lidded eyes, waiting for Rain to protest, but she didn't. She wanted this.

 _She wanted him._

Without another delay, Michael neared Rain once more. Rain pressed herself against him as he slipped between her legs and placed his lips on hers. This time the two were more sure of themselves. They knew this was what they both yearned for, so their force was stronger and much more hungry for satisfaction.

Rain wrapped her legs around Michael's torso and drew herself upon his chest as he cradled her neck with one hand and her back with the other. As his kisses increased in number so did each breath that escaped her. Before Michael, Rain hadn't the slightest clue of what it was like to breathe. She breathed in all of him as he consumed all of her.

He leaned forward slightly, so she fell back onto the bed as he let go of her lips. Michael hovered over her with starving eyes. He wanted all of her, every part of her.

Rain felt him grab on to her right leg and force it against his side as he lowered himself on her with a quiet grunt, she was panting with anticipation. Michael trailed his hand along that leg, down her thigh, underneath her tunic. Rain arched her body as his hand reached in between her legs, but Michael pressed his mouth against hers before she could let out a shuddering breath. Rain let out a sigh as his kiss deepened and his tongue traced along the back of her teeth all while she felt his fingers trace up her shirt.

His fingers were cool against her skin. She shivered at his touch and how softly he clenched on to her body, how deeply he kissed her. Michael let go of her lips and traced kisses along her cheek and down her jaw. Rain inhaled sharply at how he played along her neck. She grasped on to the back of his shirt, wrenching the fabric as his touch heightened how much more she wanted from him. Her whole body trembled as Michael began to slide the fabric of her tunic up her abdomen. Rain could feel her face heat up and ears redden as he trailed back up to meet her eyes.

 _Shelby boy . . ._

The whisper emerged in her thoughts abruptly as Michael looked down on her.

 _. . . Your father . . . I shot him . . ._

"Rain," Michael exhaled as his eyes searched for her.

 _. . . I'll kill you and that Shelby boy . . ._

Suddenly, Rain stopped moving under Michael. Her breathing was growing faster, more panicked. Her vision was plagued with images of that black room with the masked man. His cutting, his slapping, his bruising, it was all thrashed into Rain's conscious once more.

"I don't know where they are." Rain whimpered, shaking her head under Michael.

"Rain?" he called for her anxiously.

"Please, I don't know anything." She shuddered in fear.

Hastily, Michael climbed off of Rain and pulled her up into a seated position. She was trembling and tears began to fall from her eyes. It was the most frightened Michael had ever seen her. He held her firmly with both hands, shaking her out of that dark pit she fell into.

"Rain look at me!" he urged her in a harsh whisper. "Come on, Rain, please look at me!" Michael held the sides of her face and forced Rain to meet his eyes. She quit shaking once he grasped on to her firmly. "You're all right, Rain. You're with me, Michael. Remember?" he soothed.

"Michael?" she echoed. Rain couldn't recognize him for a slight moment. She eyed the room around her. The man in the mask wasn't there. Mr. Crimson was nowhere to be seen. Rain let out a quivering breath, "Fuck." She realized where she was, what she had done. "Fuck! Michael, I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize, Rain." He coaxed. "There is _nothing_ for you to apologize for, do you understand me?" Michael let go of her face and held her hands tightly until Rain's breathing ran normal again. He smoothed back her hair and waited patiently for her to unwind her distress.

"Can we go outside?" Rain asked lifelessly. She looked nothing like her normal self. This was a terrified Rain, a nervous Rain.

"Come on." Within seconds Michael retrieved his coat. He placed it around Rain's shoulders and took her by the hand. Once the two were out of the white room, a sense of relief hit Rain. She was no longer entrapped in that dark room.

* * *

Seeing the stars reminded Rain of home.

She sat outside on the roof of the hospital with Michael. He led her through the sanitized halls of the quiet clinic and up a flight of stairs behind a yellow door. It was as if Rain wasn't breathing properly until she was presented with the open air. It was brisk and ran chillingly along her face.

Rain was sitting against Michael as he leaned against the door leading to the staircase. The two were looking beyond the smog of Birmingham and into the galaxies above. Rain could feel Michael's chest rise and fall as he wrapped his arms around her. He rested his chin against her head. He didn't say a word since he led her out of her hospital room. Rain took the opportune silence to release the rest of her tears in order to reach for her normal strength.

 _The masked man is gone, Mr. Crimson is gone, there's no one around to hurt me._

Telling herself that was the only way to find her courage. Sitting in Michael's coat and smelling his familiar scent was enough to give her a sense of security. Watching the night slowly seep into an inky blue color let her know that she was going to be fine, that her mind was still functioning properly.

"We haven't settled our bet." Rain said, breaking the silence.

"Fuck the bet." Michael muttered against her.

"What would a woman be without her word?" Rain humored. She felt him kiss her head softly before resting against it once more.

"You don't have to say anything you don't want to."

"Well, I've got to tell somebody . . . and _you're_ the only bloke within close proximity."

"I won't hesitate to leave, if that's what you wish." Michael teased. "I'll find Fin and he'll gladly-

"-Shut up, and listen." Rain chided with a laugh. Michael's torso shook with a small chuckle as well.

Rain waited until she was calm enough to think back, to remember what she had been trying to erase from her memory. She had never said it aloud to anyone, and that didn't make it easier for her to conjure up the words. Although, as she was beginning to fade away she felt Michael's hand reach for her own. He held on to her as if he knew she was ready to let this darkness consume her . . . and it was just what she needed.

"The Cassin were a royal Gypsy family in France. My father's father was the King of Gypsies." Rain began, and soon it all came piling back to her, "Imagine how enraged a Roma would be when he discovered that his _only son_ had run off with a Chinese woman. Any sane man would run . . . but my father didn't know what the word 'sanity' meant. Before leaving the Gypsy camp, he took something very valuable that belonged to the Cassin. Only one would ensure a lifetime of luxury for a family of ten, but he decided to take all five. I've never seen the diamonds. My father never let me see them. He'd tell me about our 'treasure' and hid them from me when we lived in our nice house down in Portsmouth. It sat right by the harbor."

"Your mother?" Michael asked.

"I don't remember her face, that much is true. She left France and on to Portsmouth with my father, that's where they changed their names and had me. After that, I'm not sure. My father only gave me her name. I can only remember her voice. Not the words she would say, but the songs she would sing in Chinese I think. 'Mandarin,' they call it . . . After a few years in Portsmouth, the Cassin located my father. They _really_ are connected to their jewels, I think. I was five when we first moved to Birmingham. I wasn't told why we moved, just that we were going to bury our treasure. It was his game. Keeping those stones was just a game, he didn't consider it a danger to his daughter, no . . . We stayed here, in a less extravagant home, but it was a nice place near the country. I loved that small cottage. It was small and homely, away from the smog, and it sat near a lake. The door was red . . ." Rain drifted off into that warm memory. "I remember painting it with him . . ." she quickly shook herself away from that fault and gathered her thoughts.

"When I was fourteen my father didn't come home one night. It wasn't unnatural of him. He liked to drink every now and then. We didn't have to work because of our 'treasure', money wasn't an issue, but my father was. He didn't come back in time to pay for the land, so I had to leave. That's when I found Mr. Zhang. For four years it didn't occur to me that he could've been taken from me."

"What do you mean?" Michael asked.

Rain shifted so that she was facing Michael. "When I was with Crimson, he said he had my father. He said the Cassin found my father four years ago when were still living in that cottage. They sold him to Crimson just last year in hopes to beat the location of those diamonds out of him. He said . . . he said my father died saying my name."

"Now he thinks you have the diamonds?"

"The fucker thinks I have the bloody diamonds." Rain stood up from where she sat, she could no longer swallow the anger that riled through her. Though it took her a moment to stand, Rain managed to hobble away from the door and into the cool air. She peered out into the stars. They calmed her thoughts as her small cottage home came into view.

"He said he'd kill me," Rain uttered. She sensed Michael stand up and walk over to her. His arms enveloped her from behind and his chin rested on her shoulders. She didn't know how his embrace managed to soothe her every worry. "He said he'd kill you."

"That's not going to happen." He exhaled.

"Well it nearly happened once, Michael." She cautioned.

"He's not going to touch you, Rain." Michael stressed, "Never again, I promise it."

"It's not me I'm worried about," she argued. "Crimson's going to get something out of me whether it's those damned diamonds or my life or yours."

Rain met this man. She endured his insanity and saw it living within him. He wasn't going to stop now that he knew Rain existed, just like he didn't when he found her father. The fact that Mr. Shelby robbed everything from him was not a benefactor. Rain was certain Mr. Shelby wouldn't ever consider giving Jack Bowery Crimson his money back; it would be bad for business.

"There's only one thing to do, then." Michael interjected.

Rain reached up to Michael and turned to face him. "I'm not going to run." She declared.

"We find those diamonds."

"If only it were that simple."

"But we won't give them to Crimson."

". . . You've lost me, Mr. Gray."

Michael pecked her lips softly before breaking free from his embrace.

"Let's get some rest. I'll explain in the morning." He said tiredly, leading Rain toward the exit of the hospital roof.

"It _is_ the morning." she sneered.

"You know what I fucking mean, Princess Cassin."

"In no way do I find that amusing."

* * *

Thank's for your kind words, guys :) I hope this shift in plot suits the story, let me know what you think.


	22. No Room for Doubt (M)

**Rated M* for Motherfuckin mature content.**

* * *

Rain's first day back was practically a celebration.

Ada wouldn't let Rain out of her sight after she was released from the hospital. For two days Rain was under close surveillance and for once she didn't mind Ada's tight grip. There was no better feeling than being looked after.

Once Ada's grip grew a bit too tight, Rain decided she was well enough to head back to work. Rain wore her best black shirt tucked under her burgundy skirt. She also placed on her father's hat before leaving her home. It was a comfortable ensemble she didn't have to think about before putting on. Though on the way, Rain mentally appreciated her decision to wear clothing that covered her cuts and bruises.

Rain walked obliviously into a crowd of Shelby employees who cheered at her arrival. The number of familiar faces that held their attention on Rain startled her. She practically staggered backwards at the surprise in fear of an attack.

Lizzie was the first to greet her in tears. "Oh, my little doll!" she sobbed while clenching Rain in her arms. "I told you to be back by Monday, and what day is it?"

"Thursday-,"

"-It's bloody Thursday, you inconsiderate lump of meat!" Lizzie squeezed Rain in her embrace as she reproached her for the broken promises shared between them.

Rain managed to laugh in that choking hold. Lizzie's dramatic approach never failed to amuse Rain. It didn't bother Rain while the others peered at her, waiting for Lizzie to let go.

"I deeply apologize, Lizzie." Rain muffled against Lizzie's chest. "I promise I'll try not to fall captive on the next assignment."

Lizzie let her go, initiating the post-embrace battle for air. Fin advanced towards Rain once she caught her breath. Rain beamed at his tall figure. He silently met Rain's hand and the two proceeded to act out their, completely customized, complex handshake.

"Nice to see you awake, Rain." Fin said.

"Finally off the drugs, unfortunately." Rain jested. That may have been the longest sentence Fin had ever exchanged with Rain.

A heavy hand clapped Rain on the back as the room dissolved back to their work. Rain exhaled a constrained grunt powered by her soar muscles.

"Good to see you alive and well, Rainy Day!" Isiah held an arm over her shoulders and walked alongside her. They strolled together across the office as more people clapped Rain on the back, forcing her to disguise her strain with a smile.

* * *

As her back was to the door, Michael made his way into the room. The sun was shining directly on Rain's figure. He first stumbled upon Rain's figure as she hopped out of the backseat of her car. Johnny dropped her off a block away from his cousin's establishment before driving to their garage. From a distance, Michael saw that Rain walked in her usual agile rhythm, but every now and then she would stagger in her boots.

It was a sunny day, and the light bounced along Rain's silhouette. Every opportunity Michael was given to gaze upon Rain, she seemed to be harnessing the heavenly sunshine around her, even if the sun was nowhere to be found. It illuminated her freckled skin, gleamed in her black hair. All of Rain was beautiful when the light found her. Michael reckoned it didn't matter if she wore a dress or trousers; she always managed to capture his attention.

Michael attempted to catch up to Rain before she walked in, but she slipped inside before he could speak with her.

Now he stood at the entrance of the large green doors. His heart raced at the sound of Rain's girlish laugh as Lizzie virtually strangled her, the laugh that she tried so hard to bury away. Michael watched as Isiah held her graceful frame as they walked along the length of the room, aching to hold her just as closely.

In the midst of his observation, Michael shook his head. More and more he found himself captivated by the mere thought of Rain. Since the day she walked in his office he could never relieve himself of how fiercely she tormented him. Now that they've altered their aggressive altercation into an aggressive attraction, it's been more difficult for Michael to focus on his work. Almost every second of his day consisted of yearning to be near Rain, to talk to her, challenger her, _to touch her_. Knowing she was so close drove his mind into madness. With much effort, Michael calmed himself. He eliminated any high regard for Rain by driving the thought of her away from his focus.

Unfortunately, it was almost impossible to ignore Rain when she was wearing that skirt he liked on her.

As he stepped down from the opening of the green doors, Michael found Lizzie smirking at the sight of him. It was as if she knew a secret no one else in the world could guess. Michael huffed quietly and walked over to her before greeting Rain.

"What is it, Lizzie?" he asked in his low voice.

"You're oddly . . . _off_ today." She sat down at her desk. "No drinks!" she shouted at the end of the room, "Doctor's orders!"

Michael narrowed his eyes at Lizzie. She was still sporting that smirk, that _infuriating_ smirk. "Spit it out, Liz." He muttered.

"No need to act all stoic and angry like that." She remarked while typing away on the typewriter. "We already have one Thomas Shelby, no need for another."

"Then why are you smiling at me, Elizabeth?" Michael deadpanned.

Lizzie's focus remained on her typing. "No reason . . . it's just you were practically ogling at the sight of her."

"At who?"

"We both know who I'm talking about, love."

Michael waved her off, "Don't make this a big deal."

"I am going to do just that," Lizzie abruptly stopped her typing and bore a serious look at Michael. "Rain is the life and joy of this bloody establishment. If you fuck that up, know that I will fuck _you_ up."

He was taken aback by Lizzie's sudden shift in attitude. If he were to speak he might've stammered.

"I see the way you look at her. It can be awful heartwarming but I know this world and I know what men are like." Lizzie said gravely, "She may seem tough, but she's never been with anyone, Michael."

"Lizzie, I would never hurt her." Michael reassured her, wondering why he had to explain himself to her. "It's nothing like that with Rain."

"Good." Lizzie exhaled and began typing away once more. "If you want to keep your balls, make sure it stays that way."

"Christ, Lizzie." Michael breathed before leaving her desk.

"And if I ever see her cry, I won't hesitate to think that you caused it."

* * *

"We've missed you at the pub." Isiah told Rain. "How about we stroll down there at the end of the day, have a few drinks?" he suggested.

"No drinks!" Lizzie called out from behind them. "Doctor's orders!"

"That's no way to celebrate our champion's return!" Isiah retorted.

"You heard the boss, Isiah." Rain said as he let go of her. "Maybe in a week from now."

"You mean, like at the wedding?" he smiled wickedly.

" _I mean_ , like when I stop vomiting after every meal."

"That was well needed information, Rain, really." He mocked. Isiah sat upon her desk as she sat down gingerly in her chair. He spoke lower than his usual intonation. "Now, what's the deal with you and Mickey?"

Rain shot her attention to the curious Isiah that sat before her. "What do you mean?" she winced.

"Don't play dumb with me, Rainy. He was barely ever here when you was in the clinic."

"Of all the girls in the office, I never took _you_ for the gossip." Rain began shifting files around his figure. "Be straight with me."

"Are you two fucking?"

"Isiah!?" she dropped her papers and thrashed her fist against his side, though it harmed Rain more than it did Isiah.

"What!?" he laughed. "You asked me to be straight!"

"I didn't ask you to be moronic!" she eyed the room to make sure no one else was listening.

"Well? Are you?" he pried.

"No! We haven't- why am I having this conversation with you? Get the fuck off my desk." Rain commanded.

Isiah hopped off the table but remained close to Rain. "That's different." He contemplated. "He usually fucks them at a faster rate."

"Thanks,"

"Of course, not with you, Rainy." Isiah reassured her. "He's never been this way with the ladies before. Then again, you're not much of a girl, either." He pondered, "You _did_ save his life, after all-,"

"-Isiah,"

"Yes, love?"

"Fuck off."

Isiah held both hands up in defense, "Just an observation, Rainy Day."

"Don't go spreading your observations to the rest of the boys." She called out as he backed away.

"I'm pretty sure they have an idea." He mentioned aloud.

Rain lowered her head on her desk in frustration, causing her cap to fall to the scattered papers around her.

She didn't know what to do with this . . . unknown status. Michael and Rain have failed to discuss their feelings for each other. It all spoke for itself when they were together. Rain didn't have to think so hard about anything when she was with Michael. It was like breathing while asleep. It came naturally. _Now_ , when people around her addressed it, she'd fail to conjure up the right words and persona.

Rain swore under her breath. She had much more to worry about. There was a mad man harassing her for her father's hidden diamonds and she was lying there concerned about what others thought about her and Michael.

 _Pathetic_ , Rain told herself, _you are a pathetic human being._

"Rain,"

"What!?" she lifted her head from the papers lethargically. Michael stood beside her chair, eyes wide with confusion. "Oh! Sorry," Rain scrambled to sit up straight. "I didn't know it was you." She let out a breath when she found Michael smiling.

"I'm glad you're back at work." He said.

"Me, too." Rain spotted Isiah in the distance. He was smirking in her direction with Fin at his side sporting the same expression.

 _Traitor._

"Would you come to my office?"

"Hmm?" she brought her attention back to Michael.

"I need to speak with you." He pointed in the direction of his office.

"Of course," Rain stood up from her desk and followed Michael to his secluded quarters.

She began smoothing her skirt down as she walked along the length of the room. Rain caught sight of Isiah's glance in mid-glide. He silently clapped his hands together in false merriment while Fin snickered beside him. Rain held up two fingers in their direction before slipping into Michael's office and shutting the door behind her.

* * *

The blinds rattled as her force echoed through the organized room. The mindless chatter was now behind them. Michael was already in his chair when Rain turned around. He waited patiently for Rain to make her way down the pristine office and sit in one of the chairs across from his desk. She had gotten better at walking at a normal pace without straining her muscles, but sitting and standing was still exhausting.

Rain slid into the leather chair with her eyes closed due to the tension it caused her. Once she breathed out in relief and opened her eyes, she found Michael sitting amusedly in front of her.

"If you find this funny, I'll gladly beat you to the brink of death so you can experience what joy I must endure." She stated blankly.

"Would you like a smoke?" Michael asked.

"Yes, for the love of God, _please_." Rain exhaled and reached for the cigarette in his hand. Before she took it, Rain paused and carefully studied Michael.

"I promise it's a normal cigarette." He insured.

Rain took the stick and Michael lit it in her hand. She leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other, and took in a long drag. While doing so, Rain thought of the first time she was in Michael's office and she blew out a gust of white fog with a smile.

"Just what I needed." She breathed. Ada had restricted her from nearly everything that helped with the nerves.

"You look better." Michael said.

"Power of makeup."

"I should consider using some."

"Don't," Rain said, "the bruises suit you."

"How sadistic of you." Michael stood up from his chair and walked around his desk with his hands in his pocket. "I should get into fights more often."

Rain cherished the sight of Michael in that fitted shirt and vest as he strolled over to recline against the edge of his desk, closer to her.

"I'm sure we're here to discuss matters more important than the strange things get me off." Rain inquired.

"What if I just wanted you here for a normal talk?"

Rain leaned further in her chair so that she could properly gaze at his standing figure. She wouldn't mind sitting there all day if it meant she could look at him. The light shining from the window behind Michael haloed around his honey-colored hair. His strong frame riled up images of his bare torso in Rain's mind. She hastily returned them to the back of her thoughts before Michael could detect the heat forming on her face.

"I'd say you're a liar."

Michael laughed softly, "I wanted to give this back to you." He pulled out a metal object from his pocket.

Rain took hold of it with her free hand and realized it was Polly's blade. "I thought I'd lost it." She said, gripping the handle. Rain recalled slicing that man's arm at the casino. The blood and bone flashed before her as she gazed at the polished knife.

Michael sat down in the chair next to her. "I picked it up before we ran off that night."

"Your mother gave this to me." Rain looked over at him and placed the blade in her boot, lifting her skirt slightly. "You could almost say she saved my life."

"I'm positive you could've handled it with your own two fists if it came to that."

"I don't think she likes me very much." Rain mentioned as she stood up from her chair, she placed her cigarette on the ashtray.

Michael followed her figure as she neared him. He managed to appear collected even as Rain bent her legs and seated herself on top of him. She had both knees on either side of his torso. Both her arms were wrapped around his neck and she sat comfortably against him. Although, Rain's body _did_ heat up once she felt Michael place his hands on her waist.

"Is that supposed to influence my decisions?" Michael tested. His voice was low, almost a whisper against Rain's lips.

"I wonder, Mr. Gray, how appalled your mother would be if she were to walk through that door." Rain inched toward Michael but restrained from touching his lips.

"Do you like it when others watch, Rain?" Michael teased.

"That's definitely _not_ what I meant-" Rain laughed with him as he lowered his head and traced his nose along her jawline.

"-Because that can be arranged," he kissed her neck, causing Rain to shudder.

"You disgust me, Michael Gray." Rain sighed with each added kiss. When Michael nearly reached her lips, Rain faltered back.

Michael didn't force himself on her. He simply brushed stray hairs away from her face, waiting for Rain to speak. "I've just been informed by a dear friend of ours that the others have grown . . . _curious_ about us."

"You know, I've received the same impression from another dear friend of ours." Michael traced his right hand along Rain's cheek.

Rain held on to his hand and nestled against it. "What do we do?"

Michael leaned forward to kiss Rain's forehead. "Nothing," he lowered his gaze on Rain. His gesture charmed her.

"They'll just keep talking." She laughed as he hovered against her lips.

"So, let them." Michael leaned forward, sliding his hands up the small of Rain's back. "We don't owe them anything." He said with half-lidded eyes that matched her own. His lips were not even a breath away from Rain's.

The moment of hesitation between them was filled with Rain's worries, her concern over everyone else's thoughts. She gazed into those green eyes and all of her doubt diminished into nothing. His touch, his clean scent, his strong hands on her body, it all felt so very right. There was no one to object their longing to be together, why should Rain let these doubts haunt her?

"That may be the smartest thing you've said all day, Mr. Gray." She whispered.

She slid a hand from Michael's neck down to his chest. Before Rain could protest any further, Michael inched forward and brushed his lips against hers. She closed her eyes and tilted her head as Michael fell back in his chair.

The office chatter was nowhere near Rain's conscious once Michael sighed against her lips, as he grasped onto her hair, and moved his hand along her body. The darkness in Rain's mind failed to plague her thoughts this time as she shifted herself on top of Michael. As Michael's breathing grew heavier under Rain's lips, she sensed a flame burst to life within her chest. Latching herself to Michael was like falling onto a bed of clouds, it was painless.

Michael let go of Rain's lips only to let her breathe, and when she gasped desperately for air his kisses grew more frequent. Rain's skirt began to ride up her legs as she rocked against Michael. Her slow and controlled movement broke off their kiss entirely.

Rain found Michael studying her body, her eyes, and her lips. He trailed his hands down to Rain's exposed thighs as she continued forming this friction between their clothed bodies. She did so without breaking his gaze.

"Rain?" he breathed with strain. He was questioning whether Rain wanted this, but she showed no sign of stopping.

Watching Michael break apart under her control drove her mad with desire, she craved more of this sensation, to see him unwind with every heated second. She refrained from kissing him because she wanted him to feel her, only her, as he grasped her neck.

Rain strived to control her breathing and the sounds that escaped her as she quickened her pace. Her insides below her stomach were raging for her to go faster, but Rain restrained herself from giving in to her urges so that she could sense every spark inside her erupt into fire one by one.

This animal feeling was all she read about, but never experienced, herself, until Michael panted against her neck and breathed her name over and over . . .

"Michael-," Rain softly emanated before he found her lips again. She felt him let go; he was almost as distraught as she.

"We have to keep quiet, Rain." Michael stressed with a shuddered laugh. His discreet nature practically raged Rain's lust for him ten times over. Michael cradled her neck and waist. He kissed the skin beneath Rain's jaw as she threw her head back. He breathed in every quiet moan that escaped her.

Rain melted as Michael aggressively, yet carefully touched her with his strong arms. She began to unravel at the sight of his desperate face, the sound of his constricted moans.

He wanted no one else but Rain, and she wanted no one else but Michael.

Rain slipped into his rhythm once more, she finally let herself fall into an uncontrollable pace as Michael pressed his forehead against hers. Michael gripped tightly on to her as she fought to release their built up tension, nothing was apparent to Rain anymore, nothing seemed to exist but Michael and her. Nothing except-

"Michael?" there was a knock at the door.

Rain and Michael froze in their embrace, panic rushed through them. All levels of elevation were destroyed and the two went plummeting down to the earth again.

"Michael! Tommy wants you and Rain at the pub now." It was Lizzie.

"Fuck," Michael swore quietly against Rain's lips as she whimpered in dismay. "One moment, Lizzie!" he called out as normally as he could.

Rain laughed bitterly as her tension was extinguished into a small wisp of smoke. Michael detached himself from Rain and slumped against his chair and with his hands over his face in frustration. For a moment they sat there in defeat, letting the disappointment sink in before they rushed back into the world.

Begrudgingly, Rain shook herself off of Michael and stood on both her feet, adjusting her skirt and stockings. As both of their breathing began to simmer into a normal pace, the world around them was suddenly bland.

" _That_ was an experience." Rain huffed, attempting to flatten her ruffled hair.

Before she headed for the door, Michael caught her arm and pulled her back on his lap. She yelped quietly with the force but it was enveloped by a soft kiss that Michael planted on her lips. He let go and rested his forehead against hers.

"We'll finish this later." He assured her.

"Promise?" Rain purred.

"Why must you torment me this way?" he groaned.

Rain kissed Michael one last time before climbing off of him. "Darling, you know I live for your suffering."


	23. Plan Reprise

Michael was still shaken up from Lizzie's disturbance. Rain was waiting outside the office for him. They decided it was best to leave separately so as to deter any staring or assumptions.

Rain smiled to herself outside on the street. She could still feel Michael's lips that once trailed along her neck. It made her body feel light and her skin hot, yet she wasn't feverish at all. Since the night of their first kiss, being around Michael pleased Rain in strange ways. His presence charged Rain with an amplitude of energy. There was no longer any negative air between them, yet their devious personalities did not dwindle on the secure attraction they shared. Enjoying games were what they two had in common. Letting that go wouldn't exactly lessen the alluring qualities of their connection, but it sure as hell made their time together bewitching.

A few moments passed by and Michael ambled out the door. Rain pushed herself into a walk alongside him. Michael trailed closely to the left of Rain once she made an appearance. Together, the unlikely pair strolled along bright busy street.

"As much as I adore your existence, I'm still very upset with you." Rain notified with her head held high. She felt Michael's eyes on her, which only heightened her amusement.

"I don't recall doing anything that would cause you displeasure within the past hour." He said with a grin. "If that were the case then you should've taken up acting instead of accounting."

"I've considered that many times before." Rain waved him off, "But honestly, it's taken you a full week to bring up the diamonds to Mr. Shelby?"

"It amazes me how quickly you make these assumptions." He jested.

"So we're _not_ going to discuss this plan of yours?" Rain tested.

"No, we are." Michael walked with his hand in his pocket while the other held a lit cigarette he'd occasionally drag on. "I told Tommy the morning after you told me about your father. You have to remember his wedding is less than a week away."

"So that makes our imminent deaths a secondary issue?"

"Have you forgotten that we are given protection, Rain? As long as we're in Birmingham we'll have no trouble."

"Yes, but the moment I step into London I'll be considered a walking corpse." Rain expressed. She spoke as if it was a light matter, but the sadistic ambience of it still crept behind her. "And what if one of Crimson's men decided to hop over here, what then?"

Michael walked slightly closer to Rain and spoke in a lower tone. "Rain, you have every right to be afraid-,"

"-Are you not afraid of _dying_ , Michael?" Rain stubbornly interjected, leering at Michael. She knew he was being sincere, but that didn't mean she would let him think her weak.

"I'm more afraid of _you_ dying, actually," Michael said, at this Rain subverted her glare. "But we can't constantly be preoccupied with death." He urged. "We can't live our lives wondering when the next fucker will try and kill us or we wouldn't get anything done."

He was right, and Rain hated that. She hated that he could calmly exude his unnatural disregard for fear. Most of all, Rain hated that she made herself seem like a paranoid child.

"How did you learn to push away all this horror that surrounds you?" Rain asked softly. "I know you weren't raised in this business, so don't try to lie about it. It was obvious the first time I laid eyes on you."

"Sometimes I forget you're smarter than you look." He jeered beside her.

Rain shoved her shoulder against Michael lightly, but hard enough to throw his balance off. Her mood uplifted once she caught him smile at her retaliation.

"All right," he surrendered, "I've only been here a few years, but a few weeks was all it took to realize that . . . I wanted to be a part of this business."

Michael looked straight ahead as he spoke. He wasn't ashamed nor was he embarrassed of speaking his mind. It was apparent that Michael refrained from regularly speaking candidly. "In those few weeks, I witnessed the most barbaric forms of violence you could ever think of . . . and it didn't bother me a single bit."

Rain registered that if she simply asked then Michael would give her a straight answer. There were no ups and downs, no lies, but occasionally Michael would deliver an ambiguous answer that was borderline psychotic. Those were his most unnerving answers that drove Rain to question why she ever allowed herself to be alone with this man.

"I decided a long time ago," Michael shared, "way before I knew I was related to Polly or Tommy, that I wouldn't let a man's actions bother me, not if I had a plan in my favor. In order to formulate one, you can't have your worries parading around in your head. It's easy to lock it all away while you're preoccupied. So when I joined Tommy, all of this didn't come too much as a shock. The world is a shit place, you're not going to live without some horror."

"Well then . . ." Rain reflected on his argument, "when _I_ was taken away, why were you so hell-bent on getting me back?" she asked, not in a daring way. She simply wanted to know why he lost all sense of order once Crimson ambushed them.

Michael met Rain's eyes. He didn't seem angry at her question, or puzzled. Actually, he was completely calm as he walked beside Rain. "I've asked myself that very question many times . . . and have yet to come up with a reasonable answer."

Rain pondered at his response. A strange feeling took over her senses. She contemplated Michael's motives and intentions with her. _Was being with her just another plan?_ At the same time, he didn't appear insincere with her at all. Everything they've done intimately wasn't shared with anyone, he never asked for anything from Rain, and he never forced her into anything she didn't already want.

Still, there was a part of her that didn't fully trust Michael's behavior, and Rain hated herself for that.

"Speaking of the wedding," Michael interjected after Rain failed to say anything. She had forgotten they were still walking together. There reached a street where there were less people around and more soot-covered laborers. "I hear you were officially invited by the bride herself."

As they turned another corner and the pub was in view, Rain forced her doubts away and embraced the excitement of the upcoming celebration. "No, you cannot choose my dress." She exhaled.

"That's a shame," Michael inched closer to her, "I pictured you in something quite striking."

"You're just going to have to use that imagination of yours until the time comes, Mr. Gray." Rain sauntered ahead of him. Michael trailed behind her as she headed for the door of the pub.

The moment she placed her hand on the knob, a voice called out for her. Rain shot her head to the right and found John walking toward her. He wasn't running nor was he shouting, so the circumstance seemed harmless.

"Rain," he called out again.

Encountering John didn't frighten Rain at all. It was men like Crimson she feared. John was still young, however that did _not_ excuse his actions. He was blessed with a family that could throw him in the right direction with force, but Crimson was a lost cause. The old American would never give up on the evil that was buried deep within his desires. Rain reckoned Jack Bowery Crimson wouldn't hesitate to sell his own mother for those diamonds. Thinking about him sent chills up Rain's back. Every healing cut burned once more on her skin. The nervous tick caused her to falter in her step and made it seem as though she was alarmed by John's presence.

When John caught her wince, he halted instantly in his advance. Rain sensed Michael standing close behind her.

"What do you want, John?" Michael muttered.

The Shelby brother appeared uncomfortable, as if approaching Rain was not something he wished to do, as if it made him sick. "I'd like to speak with you, Rain." He asked patiently, disregarding Michael's assertion. "Only if you're willing to, of course. I'd understand if it's not ideal."

Rain studied John. His bold figure was suddenly small and civil. No, she did not pity him, nor did she sympathize with his obedience, but she acknowledged that he wasn't proud of what he tried to do with her.

"I'll see you inside, Michael." Rain decided. He gave her a stern look, but he was aware that Rain was more than capable of defending herself. John's beaten face proved it. After a quick moment of hesitation, Michael went inside the pub, leaving Rain with John.

Rain advanced toward his brooding figure. The resemblance between Michael and John suddenly became apparent. "Yes?" she exhaled.

John refused to look Rain in the eye. "I never had a chance to say I'm sorry."

"For what?" Rain tested. She held her head high and refused to look away from those guilty blue eyes.

" . . . For attacking you . . . hurting you. I never meant to-," he searched for words. "I would never do something like that."

"That's funny, because from what I recall, it almost happened that night." Rain explained with distaste. "Now this is the part where you explain that you were drunk, isn't that right?"

"It doesn't matter that I was drunk." He stated firmly, finally looking her in the eyes. "I know what I did was wrong and I don't deserve any forgiveness-" John averted his eyes, he was formulating the right thing to say, "Being below Tommy and Arthur was already hard enough. You see, when Michael showed up it fucked up things even more-,"

"-I'm sorry," Rain spat, "am I supposed to feel sorry for you?"

John blew out a frustrated breath and grew irked with his inability to say something meaningful. "No! Please, Rain." He desperately urged her to listen. "I'm trying me best! You've got to see that here! I'm- I promise I won't be fucking up like that again! I won't give you any trouble, cross me heart."

Rain surveyed John's raw apology. She acknowledged John's destroyed ego and the guilt that crept through every crevice of his conscience. He was suffering because of the shit he caused Rain. _Good._ She felt no remorse for the man, not an ounce of compassion . . . but Rain could see that he was truly sorry. However, it didn't render what he did any less fucked up.

With every second of Rain's silence, John's anxiety became more apparent. Rain relished this torment. She saw what really tore the Shelby brother apart. He wanted acceptance, status, and that's what led him to take on Rain. Mr. Shelby gave the order to all of his boys that no one was to touch Rain. She suddenly became John's target. Little did he know that Rain grew up alone on the streets of Birmingham. Fighting was like scavenging for food. It was second nature.

Now that John came to terms with what was eating away his soul, it led him back to Rain. He strung up the courage to have a heartfelt conversation with Rain after she was broken by Crimson. She reckoned he seized the opportunity to make peace with her because she'd be more humble and vulnerable after a life-threatening situation. Yet, there were no signs of fabrication within his attempted vindication. Seeing that _did_ twinge Rain's heart . . . only a beat.

"I accept your apology, John." Rain sighed.

John looked cautiously at her, as if it were a trick. "You do?"

"That doesn't mean I forgive you." She cleared. He nodded his head solemnly. It was enough to clear the awkward air, but not enough to ensure Rain's pardon. She turned toward the entrance of the bar. "Let's hope you keep up on that promise."

* * *

Once again, Rain greeted the brute that guarded the door to Mr. Shelby's private sector. This time he was prepared for Rain's uncommon salutation; he even conjured half a smile.

As predicted, all eyes were on Rain and John once they entered the secluded room of the bar. There was a moment of pure silence as everyone processed the complex sight. Walking inside the brightly lit room was like going back in time. Everyone sat in the exact same seat, yet their expressions were quite the opposite from the first family meeting Rain attended.

Mr. Shelby sat uneasy at the edge of the cushioned bench that ran around the room. There wasn't a cigarette in sight. Arthur appeared half-asleep. _Sober?_ Ada was quite glad to be there. Her eyes glistened once Rain entered the room. Polly only seemed half angry at Rain. Fin was on her right. John joined the open space beside him. The tall boy who shared her freckled complexion peered at her in a concerned manner, as if mentally questioning her time spent with John. Rain shrugged casually and shifted her focus to the brooding figure on her left.

Michael stood in the corner. Rain took notice that his outward appearance was the only constant aspect of the Shelby family. The only difference was that she did not feel an ounce of displeasure when she laid eyes on him. Rain felt more at ease once he met her eyes. A hint of a smile formed on his face, it was the only thing that kept her from addressing the abnormally large elephant that crept into the room alongside her.

"Afternoon," Rain greeted the room of Shelbys, shoving her hands down her skirt. Her cheeks reddened once she noticed there were no pockets to hide her hands. Instead, she held her arms behind her and stood up tall. _Might as well own it, you dumb fuck._

"Afternoon, Rain. How are you feeling?" Mr. Shelby asked, though he wasn't completely present. It was as if he were searching for something that was no longer in existence.

 _Someone get this man a drink._

"If you don't mind, Mr. Shelby." Rain cleared her throat. "I think we'd all appreciate it if you'd address the reason why we're all here today."

"Bless your little Chinese soul." Arthur humored in his guttural laugh.

"Arthur!" Ada smacked an arm on her brother's chest. "Don't be rude."

"The girl's right." Polly interjected. Even Mr. Shelby appeared taken aback by the lack of hostility in her tone when addressing Rain. "Would you mind hurrying up this meeting? Some of us have jobs, you know."

Rain avoided any further eye contact with Polly. Knowing her, kindness was only a trap. This was their first interaction since her accident. Maybe Polly was trying to make up for all the ill-mannered sneers she directed towards Rain since her employment under Mr. Shelby. However, Rain was a perceptive girl. Women like Polly never just threw away bad air. They never apologized to anyone, even if they were the wrong ones in the equation. Still, Rain wasn't fully educated on the motives of Polly Shelby. No one was.

Mr. Shelby wiped his hand over his face in attempt to suppress his frustration that was obviously caused by something irrelevant to this meeting. "All right, to the point, it is." All sense of confidentiality was gone as Mr. Shelby let out a deep breath. "Since our success with the robbery-,"

"-Half success." Ada intervened stubbornly.

"Whatever you want to call it," Mr. Shelby stressed. "Our boys still managed to get the money and the certificates. Thanks to John and Arthur's leadership, Crimson's next shipment of booze won't make it to America. Shelby Brothers Limited will continue to reign," Mr. Shelby seemed to finally join the room as he held Rain's glance, "but mostly because of Rain's bravery."

"That's right," Arthur agreed. "You've done us all a solid, Rain."

Rain didn't falter. She kept her focus on Mr. Shelby as he continued his explanation. The entirety of the room was anticipating the next task he would initiate.

"There's more to it, lads." Mr. Shelby said gravely. "It has become apparent that Bowery Crimson has given our Rain a certain task to fulfill. If she were to fail it could lead to her untimely death."

"You've got all his money," Ada mentioned, "he's got nothing to pay those who work for him. He's bothering Rain with empty threats."

"That's not exactly true." Mr. Shelby informed the room. "We took all of his money from his Casino cache. It was enough to rob him of his exportation funds and shut down his front, but Mr. Crimson is- resourceful."

"He'll have enough to get him by in London until he finds what he is looking for." Michael added.

"What exactly does this fucker want?" Arthur protested.

"Me." Rain finished. She acknowledged that the Shelby men despised the feeling of obliviousness. It drove them to ask questions, which only made things worse.

"Is someone going to explain this shit?" John huffed in his corner. He looked more like his normal self.

"Rain?" Mr. Shelby insisted.

She exhaled deeply, catching Ada's gaze. Her friend was worried for her. It pained Rain to see Ada so anxious knowing that it was only going to increase after what she was to explain.

Rain stood there and described her dilemma as bluntly as she could. She refrained from including her personal childhood regarding her mother and the diamonds her father would constantly protect. Only Michael knew her true thoughts on this matter, and she wanted to keep it that way. Rain had to share her father's obsession with the diamonds and how efficient he was at running from the Cassin, until they sold him to Crimson, resulting in his death. She told them about Crimson's threats and intentions, without including his warning toward Michael. That would only further Polly's repulsion towards Rain. She told them about how he was determined to get these African diamonds, especially after the Peaky Blinders robbed him. It only drove him even further into madness.

A motived mad man was the worst kind of enemy.

"Even if I have no clue where the diamonds are, he'll get to me," Rain expressed, "but I'm certain that if I don't deliver soon . . . I will no longer be capable of working for your business."

"You can't just let him take her!" Ada voiced with disbelief.

"Wasn't planning on it, Ada." Mr. Shelby coaxed his sister.

"Then how, Tommy," Polly inquired, "are we going to fuck this leech away from Rain without endangering the lives of the family?" her spite was showing, "Have you forgotten that you have a child now? You're getting married soon, this job will effect everything horribly."

"Not in the long run, Pol." Mr. Shelby ensured. "We will attain these diamonds, one way or another. And the exchange won't take place until after the wedding." He glanced at Rain, "You told of us of the two houses you lived in as a child." Mr. Shelby finally pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Everyone's shoulders seemed to relax.

Rain nodded, "The one down in Portsmouth and on the outskirts of Birmingham. I can't give you exact details of the first one, just that it sat on the coast."

"No worries, Rain. We have to start somewhere. I'll have two teams of men scout both locations. They'll leave tonight, and we wait until word gets back." Mr. Shelby took in a long drag of his cigarette as the room delayed in response.

Polly was the first to argue, not surprisingly. "So you've already decided, then. What was the point of all this, calling us all here like we had a choice in this matter."

Mr. Shelby closed his eyes in frustration after exhaling smoke, "If I didn't tell you, you'd be just as angry with me, Polly." He opened his eyes, addressing the room with his cigarette. "This is a family business, everyone has the right to know what's going on."

"So we get the diamonds," Ada disregarded the small debacle, "How is that going to help Rain?" Ada's protective nature over Rain calmed her worries. She didn't feel alone in this room, especially when Michael chimed in.

"We'll set up a meeting point with Crimson," he said, pushing himself off the wall and closer to Rain. "A discrete and abandoned location in Birmingham."

"What makes you think he'll agree to that?" Arthur argued.

"As long as Rain is safe here, he won't have the leverage to assign the drop off location." Michael stated logically, "If we have the diamonds, he won't refuse. Rain will have the actual diamonds and give them to Crimson so that he believes his payment is ensured. We'll have ambush parties around the perimeter of the drop off. Most of Crimson's money is gone. He won't have many men guarding him as he makes his way back to London. He'll walk straight into our hands."

"And Jack Bowery Crimson will no longer be a problem." Mr. Shelby added.

Once the plan was established, Rain's mind began to wander. Crimson was the only complication in her life that strenuously frightened her. Knowing that Michael and Mr. Shelby were completely set to defend her was relieving. Mr. Shelby could've easily declined Michael's proposal. There was no guarantee they would find the diamonds, and yet here was Thomas Shelby, declaring that this plan was already in motion. Rain wondered how convincing Michael was with his cousin when he explained everything to him. She had half a mind to kiss him in that room, if she were suicidal, that is. Polly's presence was almost paralyzing.

"You've got this all set up and calculated." Polly tested coldly. By the look on her face, she didn't seem at all convinced with this plan.

"Polly," Mr. Shelby began. "He's already weak. The only way to end him is to catch him. There aren't any major setbacks if something were to go wrong. In the end, Rain will be safe and we will have the diamonds." He addressed Rain after a long drag. "Of course, Rain, you will keep the majority for it is your birthright. A small sum will be rewarded to the company for providing you the services-,"

"-You can have them all," Rain announced.

She felt everyone's confused eyes on her. Mr. Shelby didn't emote his uncertainty, but it was apparent to Rain once she established that the diamonds meant nothing to her. She spoke calmly, but the eeriness of her terms lingered.

"All I ask is for Crimson . . . alive."


	24. Revenge

It was the day before Mr. Shelby's wedding.

Ada was at the office with Rain. It was nearly empty. Preparations were being made and most of the employees were out on business. Rain was finishing up a few more record keeping while Ada helped. She wanted to leave nothing lying around before leaving to pack her things.

Grace had kindly invited Rain to her home to spend the night before the wedding with the rest of Mr. Shelby's close associates. It surprised Rain when she got the message, but she didn't dare decline. After meeting Grace, Rain decided it was best not to disappoint the lady. As soft spoken as she appeared, it was apparent that Grace held high standards. Refusing her invitation would definitely fail to appease her.

There was a certain skip to Rain's step as she moved from desk to desk, rushing to get the office clean of any scatter.

"Well, aren't you excited?" Ada chimed. "I've never seen you this thrilled without a drink in your hand."

Rain finished stacking a pile of books. "It's been ages since I've been to a wedding." She sighed. It was quite the sight seeing her swoon over an event, being that she wore trousers to the office, hat and all. "Do you think there'll be dancing?" Rain pondered.

"Of course there'll be dancing?" Ada scoffed, "What on earth would a wedding be without dancing?"

"The last wedding I went to was strictly diplomatic." Rain shared, she could remember every dull moment of it. "My father's friend was marrying a high class lady when we lived in Portsmouth. They were both unnaturally happy, even during their strict reception." Rain smiled at the warm memory, "There was no dancing, no music, but seeing their cheery smiles was enough to satisfy my little child brain."

"Have you seen them since?" Ada asked as she seated herself on a clean desk.

The freckled girl swiftly averted Ada's glance and proceeded to another cluttered desk. "In our cottage out in the country, we received word from Uncle Ollie that his wife passed. I haven't heard from him since." She exhaled. "I mean, how could I? I had to leave everything behind."

A small part of Rain ached for her friend. Conjuring the memories of her past life increased the torment she suffered through . . . all because of her father's unnatural fixation on those diamonds. Rain lost everything and she could potentially lose everything once more.

Rain's angry organizing displayed the raving thoughts scattering through her mind. Ada quietly ascended from her desk in efforts to extract Rain from her internal battle. Rain could hear her footsteps approaching her. She shoved one more book on the desk and exasperatingly dropped her shoulders before Ada placed a hand on them.

"Rain," Ada cooed, she guided Rain to turn around with ease. "Don't let your father's mistakes eat you up like that." Ada held Rain's hand as she refused to look at her. "We're going to fix this and you won't have to worry about Crimson any longer." Rain exhaled silently as Ada comforted her. "Maybe this whole plan is too much for you to handle."

At this Rain met Ada's eyes. She studied Ada's concern, her words, and her intentions. Rain shook her head as her true concern became clear. "Don't try and talk me out of it, Ada." She quietly affirmed. "Mr. Shelby couldn't nor could Lizzie. I've decided already."

Ada let go of Rain's hand stubbornly and stepped away. "You're willing to kill a man and live with the horrors it brings?"

Rain already knew the answer. It wasn't hard at all to imagine killing Crimson. She practically dreamt about it with a smile. "We'll see when the time comes." She retorted.

"Can't you let someone else do it, Rain?" Ada begged.

"And that will make it okay?" Rain tested, her anger boiling.

"He is a _human being_ , Rain!" she exclaimed. "I can't believe you're prepared to take away someone's life!"

It was odd arguing with Ada. Rain and Ada often bickered on small things, unimportant matters, but this time it was quite grave. Grudges were nonexistent between the two friends and Rain rarely disrespected Ada intentionally. However, it angered her as Ada stood there, judging her actions.

"You think he cared that my father was a human being?" she questioned coldly, her tone increasing with hatred. "You think Jack _Fucking_ Crimson gave a shit about _anything_ when he shot my father in the head? Or when he sliced me up, Ada?" Rain spat as Ada held her unyielding expression. "Do you think men like him fucking care? Why should I!?"

"I only ask that you reconsider." Ada stiffly replied.

Rain couldn't believe Ada's argument. Of all the people in the world, a _Shelby_ was trying to convince her to opt out of revenge. Her chest heaved with the anger she constricted within her frame as she shoved her hands into her pockets. Rain didn't want to make it worse than it already was, but hearing this dispute three times in one day was driving her mad.

Both women turned toward the door as footsteps approached. Michael fixed his gaze on Rain as he entered the heated room. He detected Rain's discomfort and studied Ada's disapproving stance.

"I brought the car out in front, Rain." He said calmly. "Should I wait outside?"

Rain let out one more breath and shook her head before stepping away from Ada. "No, I'm coming."

As she made her way across the office, Ada addressed Rain in Romani. It was the first time Ada spoke with her in their shared language. Ada's words sent a chill up Rain's spine. They weren't harshly spoken nor filled with spite. Her tone was grave and Rain detected Ada's concerned hitch.

She wished they hadn't fought, but there was nothing she could do to appeal to Ada's morals. Not anymore.

 _"Think of how this will change things with you and him."_

* * *

The evening was iced over with early frost.

Rain had placed her nice black coat over her shoulders before she exited her home with a case that held her dress and nightclothes. Michael drove Rain in her car as they quietly watched the sun set.

Rain refrained from speaking once she left Ada on bad terms. The stillness she fell into gave her a chance to reflect over Ada's request. She tried being angry at Ada, to forget that they were friends, and to completely disregard her plea . . . but her thoughts ate at her guilt. Once the buildings and smog went missing from the view, Rain forgave and reinstated her grudge over Ada almost ten times.

She mentally thanked Michael for withholding any comments as they drove on. Of course that only lasted for the first twenty minutes of the car ride. Rain felt Michael itching to break the silence as it bore on.

"Say what you want." Rain sighed, finally taking her eyes off the scenery. "I know you heard us."

Michael took his eyes off of the endless road ahead of them for a quick second. He found Rain's eyes and held on for as long as he could before returning his attention to his driving.

"I know better than anyone that no one can convince you to change your mind." He said lightheartedly. "I'd kill the fucker me self if you hadn't already set your heart on it."

Rain exhaled a small laugh. Even when she was angry with Ada, this green-eyed boy managed to relieve some of her strain.

"Would you do anything different?" she asked quietly.

Michael exhaled the tension off his shoulders. He relaxed against his seat as he drove on and spoke without looking to Rain.

"For nearly eighteen years," he began, "I lived with a woman who called me, 'Henry'. I was raised to believe that my birth mother never wanted me. Then I found out that I was taken from Polly as a boy . . . taken by force and without any proper documentation."

Rain narrowed her eyes as Michael went on. He rarely mentioned anything about his years before finding Polly. Rain had never asked either. She decided it wasn't something she should press into. Now he was practically opening something private to Rain, something that felt heavily confidential.

"If I ever encountered the man who took me away," he remarked without emotion, "I would do far worse than shoot him."

The car suddenly grew profoundly quiet. Rain hadn't noticed that Michael's breathing grew a bit heavier. Not by too much, but enough to display the displeasure he was reliving. Rain reached over to clasp her hand over his. Michael clenched his free hand on to hers, relieving any unwanted stress.

This time, it was Rain who sat quietly, waiting for Michael to settle. Even when his breathing fell back to normal and his hand relaxed in hers, Rain didn't utter a thing. She hadn't the strength to say anything, not after absorbing what Michael shared. However, it did better her confidence with her decision to kill Crimson.

His words only furthered her hatred from men who felt no compassion, for men who refused to acknowledge the hearts they possessed. _Crimson has no heart_ , Rain declared. It would be easier for her to pull the trigger.

* * *

"This is a house?"

Rain practically stumbled out of her car staring at the grand mansion. She almost walked into the ornate fountain that sat before the entrance of Mr. Shelby's home. She trailed her feet along the stone ground, marveling at the sight before her.

Windows, so many windows lit with illuminating candles. _Flowers! Flowers in this bloody weather!?_

The geometric designs of the exterior, the juxtaposition of the stones and bricks, the foundation, the gothic elements, the scenery all of it surged Rain with the desire to draw it . . . if she could draw, that is. Her heart melted at the sight of Mr. Shelby's estate. How wonderful this wedding would be. It completely took Rain's mind away from her dispute with Ada.

Michael appeared amused with Rain's reaction as he led her up the stone steps and into the home. Two butlers stood on either side of the frame. They took hold of the cases in Michael's hands. One offered to take Rain's coat. She politely declined, knowing that she'd probably faint from the exposure.

Stepping through those doors was like falling into a dream. The ceiling of Mr. Shelby's home stretched on for days. Paintings were hung all along the walls, lustrous chandeliers dangled elegantly on gold chains, and the wooden structures were polished to a shine.

This entrance hall was a scene from a fairytale. Everything was clear and pristine. Rain had half a mind to leave before she could fall in love with the home even further. At the top of the cherry stairs stood the bride herself. The image of Grace along the railing was one Rain could never erase from her memory. Grace was smiling down at Rain. The light from the chandeliers created a glowing silhouette around her heavenly image. For a moment, Rain wished _she_ were the one marrying Grace.

"Welcome, Rain." She sang with delight as she glided down the steps. "I'm so very glad you decided to come to our home."

 _I didn't really have much of a choice._ "It would be foolish to decline a personal invitation from the bride, herself." Rain humored as Grace reached the bottom step.

"Well said, my dear." She remarked, "How are you, Michael?"

"Doing all right, Grace." He replied, "Is Tommy here?"

"He should be out by the stables with the other boys. Why don't you leave us girls for a while, Michael." Grace urged kindly. "I'll show Rain to her room."

"Of course," As Michael backed away from the ladies, he glanced quickly at Rain. "I'll find you later."

Rain nodded silently before Michael made his way down the barren corridor. She half wished she could join the rest of the boys. She imagined what idiocy they were delving into the night before the wedding. Then again, she was looking forward to speaking with Grace again. Her alluring figure grasped on to Rain's hand.

"Shall we?"

* * *

 _Thanks for the reviews and follows, guys. The wedding scenes will be coming up soon :) sorry for the lack of action, but I hope you enjoy the rest of what I've got planned._


	25. Safe and Smart (M)

RATED M ;)

* * *

One can't begin to explain the delight Rain felt as Grace led her around the estate. As the poised woman presented each grand room, Rain grew more comfortable with Grace's arm in her own. She felt the warmth of Grace propel her to let her grief and worries wither into oblivion.

"You have a beautiful home, Ms. Grace." Rain mentioned as they strolled toward the library doors. It was their final stop after visiting Rain's room, the kitchens, Mr. Shelby's study, the grand hall, and every other crevice at each corridor.

"Tommy told me you used to dwell in Portsmouth." Grace said, "Surely a home looking out to the sea is far more grand than that surrounded by land?"

Rain stopped at two large doors as Grace let go of her arm. "Aye, I do remember the waters." She reminisced, "To be very honest, I can't quite recall my actual home."

Grace's tender beam encouraged Rain to continue speaking her mind. She felt as though Grace only wished to learn everything about her during their time together.

"I remember sailing and looking out a large window into the waves. I'd say my home was the sea, rather than the actual house located near the harbor."

"In that case, no grand estate could match the excitement of the earth's waters." Grace chimed lightly before opening the ornate doors to the library.

Rain followed her tall figure inside the decadent room. No candles were lit within the open space, but the moonlight shining in through the massive windows to Rain's left was enough to showcase the stocked shelves. There were books, hundreds of books and many desk, as well as reading sofas. It was rather welcoming and serene.

Beyond the towering windows, movement in the distance attracted Rain's attention. Her footsteps echoed through the distinguished library as she surveyed the scene outside. There were dark figures sitting surrounding a bonfire. No doubt it was Mr. Shelby and his boys.

"You must be nervous," Rain addressed Grace. When she turned her attention back to the room, Grace had been seated on a sofa. "Being that your wedding is in less than fourteen hours."

"Not at all." Grace said as if there was not a worry in the world that could destroy her peaceful state of mind.

 _How does she hide it so well?_

"Do you fret over anything, Ms. Grace?" Rain inquired as she wandered casually toward the armchair across from Grace. Even in the moonlight she looked heavenly. Rain pondered over Grace's hesitation as she seated herself comfortably on the cushioned armchair.

"There are many things that worry me, my dear." Grace sighed, relaxing in her seat. "I'm marrying a gangster, for one. We have a child who I worry over . . . I worry deeply for our little Charles." Her tired eyes trailed to the window.

 _That's where it is,_ Rain thought. Grace's troubles all gather to her eyes.

"How do you sleep at night?" Rain asked, not in a condescending way, she truly wished to know how Grace could endure all that went on in her life. "You're surrounded by threats. Far worse than the ones I face, and yet you're able to live a normal life."

"Nothing about our lives are normal, Rain." Grace breathed. "We choose how to spend the remainder of our fleeting lives. I wasn't forced into loving Tommy. I wasn't forced into marrying him either." She smiled distantly before finding Rain. "I chose to be happy . . . that doesn't mean I chose the safe or smartest route."

"You certainly _are_ the wisest person I've ever met." Rain humored, resting easily against the armchair.

"Everyone fears something, Rain. You've got to learn to let a few things go so that you can live a full life."

"I know that much." Rain nodded, "That's one of the reasons why I decided to join Mr. Shelby's company."

Grace's smile twinkled in the moonlight. "And I'm happy you've decided to stay with us, even after your accident." Her voice grew quiet. "If you ever need someone to talk to, my dear, I'd be glad to hear from you."

"If you don't mind me asking, Ms. Grace," Rain began nervously, "why are you so quick to trust me?"

The little light within the library illuminated her soft features. As kind as Grace was, Rain still wondered if there was any part of her that didn't trust Grace, herself. However, after Grace's calming response, Rain easily brought it upon herself to leave her faith with the exquisite woman before her.

"You're a girl worth keeping, Rain . . . plus my instincts are never wrong." Grace added gleefully, "I used to be a spy, you know?"

For the remainder of their time together, Rain indulged in Grace's tales about her young life. How she lost her father and what led her to become a spy. Rain laughed at the giddy parts and awed at the stressful ones, wondering how a _graceful_ woman could endure such tragedies and end up alive and well. After constantly having to answer questions about her past, it was delightful to listen to someone else jabber about themselves.

* * *

Some time later, the young freckled-girl fell asleep. She couldn't remember when her mind drifted into a deep slumber. At first she was laughing with Grace and in the next there was darkness all over. Rain woke up to the feeling of being lifted from her armchair and nestled against something hard and warm. She opened her eyes slowly as she was carried out of the library.

Michael handled her as if she weighed next to nothing. Rain was careful not to stir too fast, so as to remain in his strong arms for the whole trip to her room. A voice appeared as she was transported out into the quiet corridor.

"Thank you, Michael." It was Grace; Rain could sense the warmth in her voice. "Her room is in the next hall, third one on the right."

"Goodnight, Grace." Michael assured. "See you in the morning."

His words vibrated against Rain's body as she clung to his chest. Rain restrained herself from smiling. If Michael were to sense her responsiveness, she would no longer be able to burrow so close to him.

As Michael quietly made his way deeper into the dark corridor, Rain grew accustomed to the sensation of being transported via someone else's effort. It was the most satisfying form of travel.

Though her eyes were closed, Rain sensed her entrance into a secluded room. Michael nudged the door closed with his side. Once the echo of the hallway dissipated into the distance, the green-eyed boy walked over to the bed and tossed Rain onto the grand mattress carelessly.

Even in complete shock, Rain suppressed a cry of displeasure as her body bounced upon the divine comforters multiple times. She sharply inhaled at the fall and found Michael standing smugly with his arms crossed over his chest. The only light came from the windows beside her bed, but it was enough to display Michael's taunting figure.

"What the fuck!?" she bellowed in a whisper.

"I knew you were awake." He beamed in the dark room.

"So you decide to hurl me onto the bed!?"

"I've wanted to do that for quite some time, actually." Michael remarked casually.

Rain collected her breathing and tried desperately to stop herself from smiling, but she couldn't help herself. "You're not funny." She teased.

"Then why," he leaned against the bed, closer to Rain, "are you smiling like a fool?"

As he grew closer to her with both hands leaning on the mattress, Rain could detect his scent. He had been near the bonfire and so the smoke of the branches and leaves caught on to his soapy fragrance. He smelled divine. Not a hint of whiskey plagued Michael's earthy aroma.

"If you're planning on doing anything tricky with me tonight, forget it." Rain smirked. She refrained from looking away from his green eyes that shined with the white light emitting from the moon.

Michael was completely infatuated with Rain, he didn't falter for even a fraction of a moment as he neared her.

"Why not?" he tested in a low voice. It was his exhausted voice, a playfulness that surged Rain with exhilaration. "Why can't we play tonight?" he breathed against her lips.

"Might I remind you that your whole family is here? Do you want the entire world to find out you're _in my room_ , in the middle of the night?" Rain questioned as Michael began to crawl onto the bed, forcing Rain to fall on her back.

"Fuck the world." He snarled above her.

Rain breathed a laugh and took in his smoky scent. She grew acutely aware to how close Michael was as he lowered his lips down to her neck, but her mind was racing nonstop. The voices in her head told her that it wasn't right to call attention the night before Grace and Mr. Shelby's wedding, even if Michael's hands were all over her and nothing about it felt wrong.

"Michael," Rain sighed, pushing him off her so that he was no longer kissing her skin. "It's not smart." Rain wiggled out from underneath Michael before his touch could render her helpless. She quietly shifted herself off the bed and walked to her door, opening it for him.

The sight of Michael's comical face pleased Rain. She had half a mind to close the door as he slumped off the bed with an uncommon whine. "You're no fun."

"There's no guarantee this will go unnoticed." Rain shrugged. "I'm not willing to take the chance."

At this, Michael's expression radiated with mischief. He raised a brow and sauntered towards Rain in a sinister manner. Instantly, Rain's body began to heat up, the sight of his devilish grin evoked all kinds of unspeakable eagerness in her unchaste thoughts. Michael captured her attention once he managed to place his hands on either side of Rain's head after slowly closing the door behind her. Rain leaned against the wooden door for she could no longer back away from Michael's entrapping gaze.

"Let's make this a bet then." He proposed quietly, knowing that Rain could not resist a wager. "If I manage to make you cry out loud enough to wake our neighboring guests then you have to show me that secret house of yours."

Rain let her arms rise around Michael's neck as he closed in on her. She pondered over his terms with a cunning grin. "My winnings?" she questioned.

Michael lowered one hand down to cradle Rain's neck while the other trailed down her side at a menacingly slow pace. "Anything you'd like."

"You know I can't oppose a wager." She sneered as Michael pressed himself between her thighs.

He nuzzled his nose along her ear and down her neck. Rain's knees instantly grew weak with each breath he emitted on her skin. "That's what makes this so fun, Rainy."

Michael's right hand crawled down to the edge of Rain's trousers causing her to quiver against his touch. She wrenched it away before he could go any further. "If I somehow suppress my cries of pleasure," Rain said as Michael faced her once more with half-lidded eyes, "I get to use your office as my own workroom for two weeks."

"Done."

" _And!_ You are to act as my personal secretary." Rain tested with a grin.

Michael rested his forehead against Rain's and sighed. She refrained from kissing him until he accepted the bet. "You really know how to make a man go mad."

"Those are the terms, Mr. Gray." Rain whispered against his lips in a sultry voice. "Believe me, nothing will commence here unless you agree to them."

The restraint in his eyes was rapidly decreasing. Without saying anything, Michael leaned in and kissed Rain's lips. She let go of his hand and it found the edge of her trousers once more. Rain tugged on Michael's hair as he pinned her harder against the door. The creaking wood was a whisper compared to their breathing. His kisses weren't soft nor did he build up to the rate he was going at. It was all so sudden and carnal that when he let go, Rain was raging with heat as he breathed close to her ear. It tickled her as he whispered once more, "It's a deal."

Rain closed her eyes, condemning any form of sound within her body as Michael's hand slipped between her trousers. She inhaled sharply as he trailed his fingers down her skin. Rain could no longer lean her head further against the door to contain herself. Michael had already clenched both her arms above her head with his other hand. Her body was no longer hers to control though she held on desperately to her silence.

Once she opened her eyes, Rain found Michael facing her. His focus did not falter with each breath they shared. As his fingers reached between Rain's thighs, she had to stifle a cry. Michael smiled shrewdly. Every move of his was calculated; every part of him raged Rain into madness for she couldn't let out a sound. Her breathing escalated and her chest heaved with each stroke of his finger. Her knees grew unstable, but Michael kept her balance against the wall, grunting quietly as he let her wrists loose and held her up.

Rain held her gaze on Michael as she wrapped her arms around him, falling into his embrace as he teased her with each agonizing brush of his fingers. He didn't meet her lips again for he was _watching_. Michael watched as Rain's self-restraint grew rigid with each motion he conducted under her smooth sex. He watched as her fervent behavior continued to drive her breathing wild. He watched as she struggled to restrict her pleading whimpers from escaping her plump lips that she bit on. It pleased him immensely to watch her fall into this state only he could evoke.

"Cry out for me, Rain." He whispered in a feral tone as his pace quickened. "You don't have to fight it."

Rain arched against Michael. Each breath that escaped her was a remnant of her sanity. She was growing wild with impatience. Michael's fingers played with her, the sight of his lips teased her, and his lustful eyes tortured her. The heat inside her was building up gradually with each moan she bit back. As much he was destroying her sanity, Rain perceived that her quiet cries and heated breathing against Michael's lips unraveled just as much restraint that remained in him.

Michael strangled growls echoed through the walls of the dark room. It vibrated through Rain's bones, delighting her every frantic nerve further into hysteria. As she gained control of her limbs with Michael's brief hesitation, Rain found his lips once more. His eyes were closed as they released their cries into each other, and so Michael didn't notice as Rain reached up to the buttons of her shirt. It was growing increasingly harder to make any controlled movement with his continued caress but Rain managed to throw off her shirt and suspenders.

As expected, Michael failed to release his gaze from Rain's figure once she let go of his lips. His fingers escaped her and Rain gathered her control as Michael faltered. Rain held his eyes as he stopped the game, searching for Rain's termination, desperate to know if she was no longer playing.

In slow movements, Rain reached across and began unbuttoning Michael's shirt. The craze in Michael's eyes reappeared and he closed in on Rain once more, latching his lips onto hers. She desperately ripped off Michael's shirt as he continued to breathe every remaining bit of her soul. The feeling of his skin against hers grew stronger as their clothes fell to ground, then their shoes, and their undergarments . . .

For the second time that night, Rain fell on to her bed. She didn't realize Michael had led her to the edge of her room, for she was only focusing on being quiet as he touched her and clung to her naked body even though every part of her wanted to melt away that control. Every inch of Rain's mind screamed to let go, to dissolve the restraint, to release the pressure Michael built up inside her.

As Michael lowered himself onto Rain, they broke apart from their kiss. Both of them panted heavily in the dark room. Rain bore into Michael's green eyes as he lightly brushed her short hair away from her face. His free hand found its way between her legs once more. Rain's breathing hitched as he spread her legs apart. She reached up to cup his cheek against the palm of her hand. Michael rested his forehead against hers.

His breathing was strict and heavy. "Only if you want it, Rain." He exhaled, though his eyes were pleading for her approval.

"No more games," she uttered through uneven breaths.

Michael shook his head, eyes shut. "No more."

Under the moonlight, Rain felt Michael lower himself completely over her body. In no way was she nervous. She wasn't afraid nor did she second-guess her decision. With Michael, Rain was sure of herself.

There was little pain as Michael found her. It was new, different with each passing second. Rain felt Michael's breathing shift as he rocked slowly against her. The further he went the tighter she grasped on to his bare back. Rain suppressed her cries in Michael's neck as she clung to him, wrapping all her limbs around him. She felt him do the same as he repeated his movements, but in different tempos at every stroke.

Her whimpers were harder to control as Michael rested both elbows on either side of her head. He looked down on her, shifting slightly with his body's movements that were heated against her own skin. It was getting harder for him to hold everything in, but his attention never left Rain. Rain's hips bucked against Michael's torso as he wrenched her hair in one hand and let out a low groan. She shut her eyes, seizing her pitched gasps to a whisper.

"Look at me, Rain," he urged desperately as their rhythm grew to its peak. "I need to see you."

Rain collected any strength remaining within her unwinding mind. As she dug her nails into his skin, Rain managed to open her grey eyes. She found Michael, hovering over her tense body. The warmth between her legs reached her bare chest as he brazed his thumb over her breast and breathed unsteadily with her.

With one more glance at Michael's beautiful pleading face, Rain was able to let go.

She felt Michael's rhythm falter as her breaths grew entangled and constricted in her throat. Rain could no longer keep her eyes open as the lightness in her chest expanded to her nose, her breasts, her fingertips and toes. Her grip loosened against Michael and she released one final cry powered by Michael's last stroke.

Stars.

There were stars above her that didn't belong to the sky. They were Rain's, and hers alone. She counted each one with every moment she spent high in the clouds of her thoughts. She had never been there before, but feeling it, seeing it was an experience she could not fathom. It was more than living or breathing, it was a fresh sensation, and it propelled her into the most peaceful condition with only a sigh to indicate her exit.

Opening her eyes and finding Michael exhausted beside her, was the most blissful thing she could ask for. The rise and fall of his chest matched her own. Within that dark room and upon that soft bed, Rain let out a musical laugh. A soft expression of delight that filled her body with a calming warmth compared to the one Michael gave her.

Michael turned his head to face Rain. She crawled closer to him, without anticipating how useless her limbs were. Michael enveloped Rain in his arms. The two held each other as their breathing ceased to make noise.

This was the feeling Rain never read about in those books Ada gave her. It was never described how a pair of beings who saw each other, who felt each other on such an intimate level would react after their time spent together.

Suddenly that didn't matter.

Rain could feel every nerve under her skin relax as Michael held her. She lay against him, breathing in his scent, thinking of all that had changed about her. Everything about Rain had drastically altered within the last month. Since the day she ran into this mysterious boy, this boy who drove her mad, Rain had never tasted something so bittersweet.

There was the impending threat of Crimson hovering over her life and Michael's, but laying beside him, feeling his skin against her own caused all of Rain's doubts to vanish. Rain felt Michael kiss her forehead as she drifted slowly into her fatigue.

She couldn't quite grasp this sensation, only that it was the perfect ending to an imperfect day.

Rain did not protest as Michael slowly fell asleep beside her.

It wasn't a smart nor a safe choice . . . but it did make her happy.


	26. Wedding Part I : No Fighting!

Soft sunlight glittered through the crevices of grey clouds. It was enough to stir Rain into a conscious state. She opened her eyes, finding Michael in her bed beside her. He slept on his stomach with one arm hanging off the edge of the bed.

Moments like these joyed Rain to the point where all her anxieties were flushed away from her thoughts.

He slept peacefully, without any hidden worries hanging on to his bold features. Rain reached out to Michael's cheek and traced the harsh lines of his bones before brushing his ruffled hair. His breathing shifted as Rain stroked his forehead with her thumb.

"Michael," she whispered. He hummed in response without opening his eyes.

"We have to get ready." She kissed his forehead lightly, to which he finally woke up to. His green eyes were glazed with fatigue as he shifted his head on the pillow.

"Morning," he breathed in a husky voice before grunting and wiping the sleep away from his eyes. Michael adjusted his body so that his right shoulder was on the bed, mirroring Rain's image. She waited patiently for him to fall out of his drowsy state, enjoying every second of it.

Michael scanned Rain's calm figure before speaking in a low voice. "Do we have to leave now?" he sounded strangely different in the morning, _uncommonly calm_.

As he reached for Rain's hand, her heart ached to stay as well. With the way he looked at her, the way he touched her, all she wanted to do was remain in that bed with Michael. He held her hand up to his lips and pecked them softly, sending chills to run along her naked body.

"You're willing to miss your own cousin's wedding?" Rain toyed softly.

"I'd do almost anything if it means I get to stay here with you." He responded tiredly, intertwining his fingers with hers.

Rain's chest went aflame with a fleeting whimsical sensation. She smiled into her pillow before hauling herself into a seated position. The mattress creaked with her slow movement.

Michael fell onto his back, hand still in clasped in hers. His eyes burned all over Rain's figure. She felt the heat of his gaze travel along her bare chest and abdomen. He didn't have to say anything to address how dangerously captivating she was.

"Don't go." He urged in his snoozed voice as he clenched her hand.

"I'm not going," Rain began, " _You_ are. This is _my_ room and I have to get dressed."

"I'd rather you not wear a thing." a sinister smile crept on Michael's face as he let go of her hand and stretched his limbs.

" _Oh right_ ," Rain mocked as she scooted off the bed, "that would be most delightful for everyone to see, especially at the alter." She found her undergarments and slipped into them quietly as Michael grudgingly slid back under the covers.

Rain sighed at the sight of his sleeping figure, placing both hands on her hips. Though she wanted to stay and revel their time together, there were responsibilities they needed to carry out.

It was Grace and Mr. Shelby's wedding day.

Without warning, Rain leaped onto the bed, landing on Michael's covered body. He groaned underneath her at the impact without combating her assault. Rain rested her arms over his chest, laughing with delight. "Mr. Gray, it seems as though you've failed to acknowledge that today, is in fact, a very important day."

Michael quickly shifted under Rain, rolling her over and pinning her underneath his weight. Rain cried out at the surprise and refrained from fighting him off. He lay lifelessly on top of Rain, with his face buried in the pillow beside her head.

"Just a few more minutes, sweetheart." He groaned in her ear.

Rain shivered at how deep his morning voice was before sorting out her priorities. The sun was rising and disappointing Grace was the last thing she wanted . . . although laying with Michael wasn't so bad either.

" _Michael_ . . ." she purred in his ear, causing him to hum in response. " _If you don't get your ass out of here in the next second_ , _I promise you that_ I'll inform all the girls in the office about how disappointing you are in bed."

Amusingly, this caught Michael's attention. He lifted himself up slightly so that he faced Rain. "You wouldn't do that," he declared, "because that would make you a liar."

"How do you know I'm _not_ lying?" she smirked.

"Trust me," he reassured her before leaning down to her ear, "I know." Michael began kissing the skin under Rain's jaw and trailed down her neck. It sent rushes of static along her body, but Rain managed to steer away from his hypnotic touch.

"Trust _me,_ " she steadied her breathing, "they'll believe every word. It won't matter if it's a lie."

Michael stopped completely in his attempt to compel Rain in bed. He sighed in her ear before shifting over her and forcefully hopping off the bed. Rain was able to breathe normally once he was clothed and far from her. She sat up and watched as he made his way to the door.

"For the record," he retorted before opening the door and walking out, "I don't give half a fuck about what they think."

* * *

Rain sat impatiently on the right side of the altar with Michael beside her. Though the Shelby family and Grace's family were seated inside, the open doors let in a rush of cold air. Everyone remained in coats and scarves due to the chilliness. The men wearing red uniforms on the other side of the aisle did not, _in any way_ , help decrease the tension riling amongst the Shelby party.

However, everyone did their best to entertain themselves while they waited for the bride.

As the church bells rang on, Rain's eyes found Mr. Shelby near the head of the room. The sight of him caused her to snort down a laugh.

"What's so funny?" Michael asked curiously beside her. His attention was previously on Karl before catching her snicker.

She leaned towards Michael as he played with Karl, placing him on his lap.

"Is it just me, or does Mr. Shelby look more miserable than the red cavalry?"

Michael smiled at Karl angelically as he bounced the toddler upon his knee. "I was thinking the exact same thing."

"Why would a man be unhappy on his wedding day?" Rain pondered as she pleasantly watched Michael play with Ada's son. It was a heartwarming scene, really. She let her sight melt into Michael's soft features that were so foreign from his usual tough exterior. Rain practically had to scrape her eyes away from him and restrain herself from ripping his clothes off right there in the altar.

She shoved her gloved hands into the pocket of her black coat. Underneath, Rain wore her rose pink dress that she bought with Ada. Rain's sense of lust was instantly faltered by the guilt that plagued her thoughts as she caught Ada's blue eyes. She sat to the right of Michael, only a few paces from Rain. They held on to each other's gaze. Instantly, the fight shared between two, just hours ago, erupted in Rain's focus.

Ada furrowed her brows. _Was it remorse?_

Seeing Ada so miserable rushed Rain into a guilty frenzy with Michael seated between them. She wanted nothing but to apologize to Ada, to throw away this nonsense and be friends again. _So what_ if Ada didn't want Rain to have her revenge? Ada was still very important to Rain. Something so small shouldn't come in the way of their friendship.

 _I shouldn't have yelled at her._

Rain couldn't hold back any longer. However, as soon as the two were ready to speak to each other, Grace had arrived.

In almost an instant, the rowdy chatter diminished into a murmur of voices. As everyone stood up, Rain was forced to direct her attention to the figure at the door. She too got on her feet. It was odd for she was thrilled for Grace's entrance, but there was still that strain between her and Ada that she only wanted to drift away from.

As soon as the whispers dissipated, the choir began.

Chills began to ride down Rain's spine. It was finally time. Rain was attending a wedding. _The wedding._

The first to make an appearance was Jeremiah, Isiah's father, all dressed in his robes. He walked down the aisle with numerous weary eyes attached to his stoic figure. The men dressed in red all stood baffled at the sight of Jeremiah. It only riled Rain's insides for how rude they were being, as if they've never seen a man with darker skin before. Though when she turned to address Michael, he gave her a look that translated into that of comprehension, but also of restraint.

Rain rolled her eyes in response to his passive behavior. Then she remembered this was Mr. Shelby's wedding. Nothing is to go wrong, no matter how ignorant the fucking cavalry were.

The purple figure at the door brought Rain's attention back to the present. Everyone's focus was now on Grace. She walked with a ravenous-looking man by the arm. It wasn't her father, of course. Though he still seemed rather out of place. Rain smiled as Grace quietly made her way down the aisle. She felt Grace's eyes pierce her own underneath that veil; at least that's what Rain had perceived. Rain couldn't help but beam with radiance. _It was all too wonderful_.

Once the choir faltered into silence and the organ lulled to a stop, Grace finally made it to Mr. Shelby.

She stood directly before him, waiting for the lift of her veil.

And once Mr. Shelby performed the traditional act, Rain swore she had never seen such happiness cross his face. They were practically glowing as they bore into each other's eyes. Mr. Shelby appeared . . . tranquil as his attention was fixed on his beautiful bride.

As she stood there, listening to Jeremiah carry out the ceremony, Rain felt a hand latch onto her own. She didn't have to look at Michael to know that he was as moved as she was. Watching Grace and Mr. Shelby's wedding unravel into a peaceful gathering, beside the boy she was practically falling for, couldn't have been more of a light moment to hold on to.

* * *

There were many guests at Mr. and Mrs. Shelby's manor. Rain found herself wandering the halls alone, in fear of approaching strangers. She had just taken off her coat and caught the sight of her own reflection in the large mirrors she occasionally passed.

Hints of pink, silver, and black flashed by as Rain sulked through the next corridor. The happiness she embraced during the ceremony at the altar slowly faded into a numb dullness that ran through her veins. Maybe it was the feeling of being around men and women who might judge her for simply looking different? It could be the thought of Crimson's threats that have been put on hold. Rain couldn't quite point out why she felt so low but when she turned another corner, it all sunk in. She had found Ada searching for someone, her blue eyes rested on Rain's figure near the threshold of the main dining hall.

Ada's eyes subtly glazed over as her focus remained on Rain. Instantly, Rain dropped her shoulders; unknowingly they were quite tense. The pair of girls released all of their worries and headed straight for each other. Both of them zigzagged through the crowd of guests. Rain's heart grew heavier the closer she got to Ada's distressed image.

Rain hesitated once Ada was only a few paces away. She was worried that her dear friend wasn't actually going to forgive her. She was worried that Ada wouldn't want to speak to her again, or that a bloody death would come her way as she crossed the hall. Suddenly, every horrible outcome came racing through Rain's thoughts, only to be wiped away as Ada wrapped her arms around her entire frame.

Perplexed, Rain exhaled in Ada's tight grasp. She felt a warmth course through her body. With extreme relief, Rain returned Ada's embrace ten times over. She held on to Ada as if it could cure every disease known to man.

"Ada," Rain rasped into her friend's ear. "Would you find it in your big heart to forgive this sad excuse of a human being?"

Ada's warm breath hit the cool part of Rain's neck as she laughed. Rain felt a single tear slide onto her skin before Ada released her grasp from Rain's shoulders. She looked onto Rain's sheepish expression.

"Sometimes I forget you're not a young girl." Ada said softly, holding on to Rain's hands. "You can make your own decisions . . . that shouldn't come between us."

Rain beamed as Ada consoled her. "So, we're square?" she bounced slightly in her heels.

Ada's smile matched Rain's, "Of course we are!" she sniffed away any sign of distress. "We're at a wedding, Rain. Let's enjoy it. You look beautiful, by the way." Ada proceeded to survey the length of Rain's apparel. "I'm so glad you decided to buy this dress."

Suddenly Rain's worries were all taken away. Hearing Ada's voice was enough to send all her troubles to the back of her mind. They've reunited and any unnecessary tension was broken in two. Rain could breathe easily now and calmly ignore any odd looks as Ada took her by the arm and began to stroll past the onlookers.

"I wouldn't have if not for your advice, Ms. Ada."

"Has Michael seen you yet?" Ada asked with a grin.

"No, I haven't seen him since we arrived from the altar." Rain mentioned as she held her head up amongst the sea of strangers. _Why can't they keep their eyes to themselves?_ "I hope he wont look as ghastly as Mrs. Shelby's guests."

Ada spoke her words closer to Rain's ear, "Don't mind them, Rain. Yes, you look different, but they're only staring because you've outshined all their daughters and wives."

Though Ada wasn't speaking too softly, Rain felt quite distant from her friend. Her focus drifted to a group of girls huddled near the stairs. They were definitely not Mr. Shelby's guests. All four of them stood tall with blond and red hair, they were quietly exchanging whispers all while glancing back and forth at Rain, especially once Fin found his way to her.

Fin shifted in front of Rain so that the taunting girls were completely out of her view. His presence effortlessly fixed Rain away from her thoughts. It was easier to forget small worries once her friends were around to pull her away.

"Tommy's in the kitchens," Fin informed hastily, "he's asking for you."

Ada gave Rain a look that may have mimicked her own. "Her?" she asked in confusion.

"Mr. Shelby wants me?" Rain narrowed brows at Fin's tall figure.

"I thought he only called in the boys for a meeting?" Ada inquired, but her emotions swiftly submitted to her brother's unusual request. "You know what, just go." She waved Rain off without any more protests.

The grey-eyed girl was suddenly dragged away from her friend. Fin's actions were too rushed for Rain to properly process, she simply let him lead the way knowing that any objection would do nothing to fish out any information from her friend of very few words. Ada grew further from Rain's vision as Fin hauled her along the plethora of guests. She was to attend this meeting, whether she wished for it or not. It was easier to fall into a train of unplanned events now that Ada decided to forgive her. It seemed as though nothing could bring Rain down . . . well, except for those gawking girls.

* * *

Mr. Shelby's voice was the first thing Rain recognized once she stepped into the kitchen behind Fin. She slipped in quietly into the busy opening as Fin led her near the circle of men near the heart of it all. Most of Mr. Shelby's closest associates and family stood solemnly around him as his servants carefully weaved through his profound seminar. Rain wondered (in a rather vexed mood) as to why she was summoned to this group lecture, for Mr. Shelby did not sound particularly happy on his wedding day.

Fin halted to her left and Isiah stood across from her to the right, next to John. Isiah refrained from saying anything, but he did smile wickedly at her once she walked in.

"If you fuckers do _anything_ to embarrass her," Mr. Shelby threatened in a rather grave manner while eyeing every single individual surrounding him, "your kin, your cousins, your horses, _your fucking kids_ ," though she did not have children, Rain feared for them once Mr. Shelby laid his raging eyes on her, "you DO ANYTHING TO-,"

"-Tom?"

"WHAT!?"

Unsurprisingly, it was Isiah who interrupted Mr. Shelby without a hint of fear in his voice. Rain silently praised Isiah's nonchalant inquiry for it led Mr. Shelby to stray away from her figure. She felt as though she could breathe properly again.

"What about snow?" Isiah questioned.

Rain smirked where she stood, waiting for Mr. Shelby's feral response. As he stepped toward Isiah's relaxed figure, Rain caught sight of a still character just beyond Mr. Shelby.

Michael stood with his back against a wall and effortlessly took in a long drag of his cigarette. His green eyes found Rain with a look of delight. It was a subtle expression, but Rain felt her body warm up at his teasing gaze. Michael bore at the length of her. It wasn't exactly how she planned to present herself to him, but at least there was good lighting to pick up the hint of rose coloring in her dress.

Rain had never felt so bold as she stood there, waiting for Michael to break off their gaze and lose the game, she had almost forgotten that she was strictly present because of Mr. Shelby's rampaging orders.

Mr. Shelby stepped in between them once more. Rain left it as a draw. He stood exasperatedly in the center; it was strange watching a dark man unravel with madness.

"But the main thing is," he paced in a much calmer tone, "you bunch of _fuckers_ ," _that sounds more like Thomas Shelby,_ "despite the provocation from the cavalry . . . no fighting."

That's when his eyes raced back towards Rain.

The girl stood dumbfounded as Mr. Shelby stormed toward her with a hostile finger raging in her direction. He halted only a few inches away from Rain's nose.

"No fighting." He commanded directly.

A whisper of chuckles drifted by as he personally addressed her. Rain cocked her head to the side, but refrained from speaking as Mr. Shelby moved on to warn Isiah with the same threat and the same finger of choice jested in his face.

"No fighting."

On to John.

"No fucking fighting."

On to a surrendered Arthur.

"No fighting."

It angered Rain that when Mr. Shelby reached Michael. He didn't utter a single threat. There was only a brief pause as he addressed Michael's smirking stance before he moved back to the center of his audience. Rain caught Michael's glance once more. They both shrugged silently to each other with indifferent expressions.

In a way, Michael did win . . . but no one was winning as Mr. Shelby went on with his frustrations.

"NO FUCKING FIGHTING!"


	27. Wedding Part II : Michael POV

Weddings were, in fact, Michael Gray's least favorite events to attend. He decided as such that morning when Rain had kicked him out of her room solely because it was Grace and Tom's wedding day. The discontent from her rejection simmered through his blood, but he kept his head leveled and performed as Rain wanted. He'd been doing so for quite a while now.

Ever since Rain had made her own unique mark in his life, Michael had, unknowingly, become hers.

It was foreign being under the control of someone else's whims, even when Rain had no clue how enamored Michael had become with her.

The word 'selfish' was seldom associated with Rain's character. She didn't ask for much and rarely ever did anything to discourage the people around her, no. Her words never called for offense, they entertained. The way she entered a room and fashioned conversation held everyone's attention. People were drawn to her elegant movements, her captivating grey eyes, her lively voice, as well as the games she played.

It was what infatuated Michael the most.

Coming to know Rain's past troubled Michael for obvious reasons. He pondered over her father's evasive actions many times, which mostly led to irrational anger, but he'd find himself questioning how a young girl forced into such treachery could still learn to laugh carelessly at the end of a horrid day. Catching Rain laugh girlishly somehow erased any resentment he felt toward William Cassin for he had taken part in bringing Rain into existence.

And when Michael caught the glittering image of Rain waltz into the kitchen behind Fin, his heart went aflame with madness.

Any grudge he held against Rain for throwing him out of her room this morning was completely gone. Any thoughts on business and Tommy's raging in the kitchen had paused indefinitely as his eyes lingered on the girl in the dusty rose dress.

Michael had held on to his cigarette to prevent it from falling to the ground in awe. His cousin's harsh threats were merely a soft echo as his eyes drifted to Rain.

Everything about her seemed so much lighter in that dress. She looked completely different, and yet so much more herself as she stood tall amongst the Shelby party.

It drove him mad that Isiah was the first to greet her.

It drove him mad that her smile was not intended for him.

It drove him mad that he could not tread across the stone floor of the kitchen and wrap her beautiful frame in his arms, to feel her body as he did the night before, to feel her wanting so much more of him, to feel her completely dissolve into him, _to be hers._

It drove him even further into madness once she let her grey eyes pierce his own.

Oh, how a mere glance from this girl drove him to _insanity._

Michael could do nothing but stand there, pretending to listen to Tommy as he made his way to the center of the circle he summoned, and yet Rain's glance was enough to lead him astray from what was expected from him.

Michael Gray. Chief Accountant of Shelby Brothers Ltd.

None of that mattered as he held on to Rain's gaze. No doubt she was playing one of her games in her head as she refrained from blinking. Michael thrived for her games; they were, of course, how their unlikely friendship came to be. Her games also led to so much more: "more" being something completely unexpected.

Being said, what Michael had with Rain was _so much more_ than what he was used to. He felt alive when Rain was near and wanted nothing more than to continue feeling this way whenever she was around. In fact . . . he felt as though she might even be stealing a part of him.

He felt it clearly when they held hands in the altar just hours ago.

It strangled his thoughts as she stood there across from him.

Tommy had abruptly stolen her attention from Michael when he came racing toward her with one of his commands.

"No fighting."

Of course, Rain wasn't perfect.

She had the tendency to grow angry at an impressively fast rate when people crossed her. It occasionally amused Michael, especially when he was subject to one of her outbursts. Although, it could be quite alarming once the violence took over.

As expected, Rain's eyebrows narrowed in bewilderment at Tommy's personal attack even as he moved on to the others with the same instructions. Michael wanted nothing more than to laugh with the others at how flustered she grew, however the sight of him laughing would only discourage Rain even further. And he wasn't willing to give up his chances at being on good terms with Rain so easily, especially when she looked so pretty in that dress.


	28. Wedding Part III : Mon Oncle

As the grand dinner commenced, Rain had a strenuous time _eating_ her dinner. She made the mistake of sitting directly next to Michael instead of in-between Ada or Lizzie.

They had barely spoken a few words with each other before being seated at the long (heavily decorated) table. As toasts were delivered . . . and half delivered, by courtesy of Arthur Shelby, Michael had been somewhat incapable of controlling his hands and how high they traveled. Nonetheless, Rain was incapable of keeping her focus on the plainly dressed woman who sat across from her.

Rain had initiated conversation with the old woman, as she instinctively did so with anyone who was forced into close proximity with her. The old woman, Patrice was her name, didn't notice Rain's diverting gaze or hitched breathing caused by Michael's subverting hand. Patrice had no trouble rambling on and on about the hats she designed for a living. It was rather perplexing, for Patrice was the only woman who didn't seem to look at Rain as if she were an exotic doll or the spawn of Satan. She simply spoke to Rain as if she were a normal guest, a normal stranger who seemed relatively interested in her own life. And here Rain was, wrestling her hand with Michael's under the table as discreetly as possible while he spoke nonchalantly with John to his left.

Once Mr. and Mrs. Shelby retreated back to the main hall to celebrate the remainder of their night, Rain took the opportunity to excuse herself from Patrice and race to the nearest lavatory. Michael's mirth-ridden smug burned her senses even more as she left the table.

She would not forget to repay him for this loss.

* * *

"Uncle Ollie!?"

It was the most unbelievable thought.

Over the course of the month, Rain had the unfortunate luck of stumbling upon a vicious gang leader, which eventually led to her captive status under a completely different vicious gang leader. Her old life had been rammed into her new one due to said secondary vicious gang leader's death threats. She had been thrown into a new world of scheming and thievery that proved to be far more dangerous than her life before her recruitment into Thomas Shelby's business.

And yet, she never expected to fall under such shock due to the sight of a friend from her old life.

Amongst the crowd of unfamiliar faces, Rain stood gaping at a tall familiar figure. She was positive it was Uncle Ollie, her father's closest friend, although his mustache was what formed a hint of doubt.

The tall man's light eyes radiated with delight. He looked at Rain as if she were an unimaginable miracle, and then a hint of sorrow glazed over his kind, aged eyes.

"Renée?" he uttered as he staggered in his step.

Rain had forgotten that she was at a wedding; she had forgotten that there were others around her whose eyes were cautiously analyzing her as she treaded across the room.

She did not care.

One moment she was standing alone, in the next she was flying across the hall and into the arms of an old friend. The weight of the world fell from her shoulders as Ruben Oliver returned her strong embrace. She felt his tall figure shake as he laughed in disbelief.

"I can't believe this!" he joyed, "is this _my_ little Renée?"

Rain's eyes fell to the floor as Ruben Oliver released her. She was overcome with an unfamiliar feeling . . . _reluctance_?

"How is it that I left the arms of a charming young girl years ago, only to stumble upon what a grand woman she's become?" he delighted. Tears were restrained from slipping down his face as he studied every inch of her Rain's.

Rain managed to stand up tall in her heeled shoes, yet it did nothing to make her appear like less of a child next to him. She squeezed her uncle's hands in her own. Oddly enough, she couldn't form anything to say to him. Her insides felt sick and her head was spinning at how quickly she had to process this inconceivable encounter.

He detected her hesitation within seconds of her silence. Even though Rain had grown taller and older, Ruben Oliver still managed to make her feel small as he lowered himself to match her height. He spoke in a low voice, a grave voice that only depicted the years of disconnection Rain had caused between them.

"I know that you weren't safe . . . when he was taken." Rain looked up to her uncle as he spoke these words. He had known of her father's troubled past. How could he not? After all, they were best friends. "I only wish you would've stayed put long enough so that I could've retrieved you in time."

The music suddenly grew distant from where Rain and Ruben Oliver stood.

"You came looking for me?" Rain rasped in confusion.

A mournful smile formed on her uncle's sorrowful face. "Of course I came looking for you." He wiped the single tear that raced down Rain's freckled cheek. "All these years, and look, _you_ were the one who found _me_."

At this, Rain managed to laugh. It was probably the most miserable laugh she ever emitted, but it held all of her sadness.

Since the day she was on her own, Rain had never, not once, considered that someone had been thinking of her. That night . . . she was proven wrong.

"Chin up, my darling," Ruben Oliver stepped back from Rain, towering over her once more. "It only makes sense that we reunite at a wedding, being that I last saw you at mine."

Rain stood up tall once more, though her voice was soft, softer than it had ever been.

"You always seem to find the lighter things in dark situations, Uncle Ollie." It felt nice to be able to say his name again.

"One should always look for the lighter things, Renée." He proclaimed before taking her arm around his own and leading her across the grand hall gingerly, all of his attention belonged to Rain.

Rain examined her uncle's hand. "I see you still paint." She ticked off the faded pigments on his fingers and tried to focus on a memory that _wouldn't_ bring her to tears. She could already picture her uncle furiously scrubbing the paint off of his hands and then giving up when it failed to disappear.

"I'm not as good at anything else, am I?" he smiled, "But let's not waste our precious time together yapping on about boring old me. Now, you must tell me everything! By the looks of that dress, you seem to have found a way to live comfortably. I always knew you would, being how smart you are, even as a young child."

Rain breathed against her uncle's tall figure, it was rather relaxing to speak freely with an old friend. For just a moment, Rain no longer felt as if she had to fight for anything.

"Something like that," she started, "I've only been fortunate this past month. My new employer is a kind man, even though he may seem deranged."

"I know this may seem too forward," Ruben Oliver rambled truthfully, as he always did, "but if you are in need of a home or money, my darling, my doors are open for you. I can't imagine how horrible life has treated you, such a young girl you were. My only desire is to see you live happily-, "

"That won't be necessary, Uncle." Rain detected the falter in Ruben Oliver's expression. It somehow warmed her insides to know that he was still willing to care for her. "I'm making enough to live independently, and I'm more than happy with how things have turned out." She refrained from mentioning any threats or dangers she'd faced just weeks ago. Rain had a feeling her uncle would morph into a more worried version of Ada, if that were possible.

Ruben Oliver halted near the stairs that led up to the second floor. There were less guests walking about and the music wasn't so loud, so he took the time to speak freely with Rain. He grasped Rain's hands tightly and locked eyes.

"I live a few minutes outside of Birmingham by car. If you are in need of _anything_ , my darling," he asserted softly, "please come to me. I've been absent from your life, more than I'd intended. Would you do me a favor and notify me before if you decide to disappear like that again?"

When did feeling safe grow to be uncanny in Rain's eyes? As her uncle's words sank in, she searched her memories thoroughly and failed to recall the last time she had ever felt so certain of her future.

For so many years, a little grey-eyed girl had to survive one day after the next. Only this past month did Rain feel settled under Mr. Shelby's security, around Michael's arms, amongst Ada and Lizzie and Isiah. Her friends helped Rain Kinsley in many ways she could not explain.

But it was Ruben Oliver who revived Renée Cassin.

As her uncle grasped her hand, Rain felt herself drift from the woman she fought to become and fall into the small silhouette of the little girl she used to be.

"Do not cry, my darling!" Ruben Oliver chuckled with endearment as he, once more, wiped away those miserable tears that slid down Rain's freckled face. "This is a day of celebration! No room for tears!" he cheered. "Somehow, fate has led me back to ma petite fille."

Amongst the heartache, Rain managed to exhale a loose breath and smile for her uncle. He then stood up tall, releasing her hands. "Why don't I bring us some champagne to commemorate our reconciliation?"

Rain nodded in approval, "I'd like that very much."

She knew he didn't want to leave her side, not when they just reunited. Rain took in deep breaths as Ruben Oliver walked away. It was not soon after when Ada and Polly approached Rain.

They bore at her with confusion and Rain quickly made it so that she didn't appear to have been crying. For once, a genuine smile emitted from her light figure. She felt as though nothing could bring her down from such a wonderful high.

"Who was that man you were speaking so fondly with, Rainy?" Ada had asked while Polly eyed her carefully.

"What did he want from you?" Polly questioned skeptically.

"You wouldn't believe me, Ada." Rain sniffed away any sign of distress. "Do remember that wedding I spoke of last night? My father's friend who married the diplomat?"

Ada's eyes grew in disbelief, "That's him?!"

Rain nodded with glee.

"Who do you think invited him?" Ada wondered in astonishment.

"He's married?" Polly asked.

"Don't worry, Aunt Pol," Ada reassured, "Rain mentioned that he's a widower."

Rain looked over the two women with analyzing eyes and a coy grin began to form upon her face. Before she could make any accusations, her lanky uncle reappeared by her side, handing her a glass of sparkling champagne.

"Here you are, Renée." He caught sight of the two women beside her. "And who are your lovely companions?"

"Uncle Ollie, this is Polly Gray. She is one of the head runners of Shelby Brothers Limited, the company I now work for. "

The kind-eyed man shook his free hand with Polly's. "I believe we've met before at dinner." He remarked with amusement before letting go and turning to Ada. "And you must be-,"

"-Ada Shelby," she interjected with unusual excitement, "I take no part in my brother's company."

"Ada, Polly, this is, my dear uncle, Ruben Oliver." Rain introduced with a newly regarded joy. "He and my father were very close associates. One could say he raised me."

"It's very nice to meet the family who has been taking care of my little Renée."

"I can assure you, Mr. Oliver-," Polly began,

"-Please, call me Ruben." He assured Polly.

To Rain's surprise, she might've detected a subtle blush emitting from Polly's usual stern appearance.

"Ruben. Miss. Cassin has definitely been a great asset to the company this past month."

 _That was definitely_ _unexpected._

Both Rain and Ada quickly shot looks of surprise at each other before Polly could catch their dumbfounded expressions.

"If I may ask, Ms. Gray-,"

"-Polly." She interjected softly.

"Of course." Ruben beamed, " _Polly_ , what services does she provide your company exactly?"

"Mr. Oliver," Ada quickly intervened, grabbing Rain's free hand. "Why don't you and Polly discuss Rain's outstanding work effort? I just remembered that Tommy needed our help on a certain wedding-related issue."

Rain mentally praised Ada's beautiful existence, though she sensed Polly's look of disapproval as soon as they began to step away.

"Oh, of course." Ruben Oliver's eyes found Rain's for her incentive. "Don't forget to find me before the night is over, my darling."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Uncle." Rain declared before Ada rushed her away.

* * *

Thank you guys so much for the kind words you've sent me over the past few months. I'm so sorry I've been updating like a snail lately, I've been caught up in school and work. Good news is I've got the story all mapped out and will be publishing more often. I hope you guys like what I think up. Again, your reviews are always appreciated. :))))


	29. Wedding Part IV : Dance

Rain had only _just_ found her uncle. Why was it hard for her to accept the fact that they'd have time to speak freely with each other? She knew her uncle wouldn't disappear, but there was still a dark feeling lingering within Rain as Ada turned the corner. Maybe Rain only felt that way because of past experiences. She found it difficult to rely on someone's word and to be certain of something good remaining in her life.

As Ada came to a halt, Rain had let the atmosphere of the dim room sink into her thoughts. She wasn't in the mood for drinking, so she placed her glass onto a counter. There wasn't any chatter amongst the guests. For once, there was complete silence. The main lights emitted near the head of the hall, by the musicians who played a soothing tune.

The majority of the guests circled the dance floor and endearingly watched as the newly weds gracefully waltzed together.

Ada fell silent beside Rain as they looked over the serene view. It seemed as though Mr. and Mrs. Shelby were listening to a different song, as if they were in a different world. They gazed into each other's eyes and it appeared as if they lived in a world without any harm, without any heartache.

They were in a world in which _they_ held the reins.

As the couple danced, Rain had caught sight of Michael amongst the silent hall speaking quietly with a guest. The music rushed back to her system and Rain had remembered that someone who made her feel secure was standing just across the hall.

Her mind released any sense of uncertainty as Michael's green eyes found hers. Rain let out a strained breath and smiled in his direction. He had stopped in mid-speech to glance her way and a flash of heat made its way to Rain's freckled face.

Rain bit back a smile as a few couples headed toward the dance floor. She had half a mind to grab Michael away, but then she took notice of whom he had been speaking with.

It was the red haired girl who, only hours ago, was peering at Rain as if she were a foreign object from some unknown world. She stood adjacent to Michael, unaware that he had not been paying any attention to her continuous babbling.

She didn't know this feeling, but it resembled an irrational frustration combined with a desire for murder. Rain's face fell and she weaved in between guests so Michael could not see her. Before she could exit the room, a certain someone had grabbed her hand and wrenched her close to his body. Rain swallowed her surprised outbursts once she noticed who it was.

"Where do you think you're headed?" Isiah perplexed, placing his other hand around her waist. He ushered her into the heart of the dance floor, so that she couldn't protest without making a scene.

Rain glared up at her scheming friend as she stepped to the music. "Yes, of course! I'll dance with you, Isiah, thank you for asking."

"No games with me, Rainy Day." Isiah said, "I saw you rushing to get out, now what's the problem?" he asked sternly.

Rain sighed deeply, letting her muscles relax around Isiah's figure as they slowly swayed with the music. Unfamiliar couples raised their eyebrows at the sight of Rain and Isiah dancing. It amplified Rain's temper even further, and yet she tried to focus on finding her rhythm.

Isiah was quite the dancer. His quick movements made it easier for Rain to steer away from the peering eyes.

"You see that girl Michael's speaking with?" she whispered in his ear.

Isiah looked beyond Rain's head after a quick twirl. "I see the girl he's currently walking _away_ from." He smiled devilishly. "That lovely red bird?"

"Earlier she and a few other girls were gaping at me as if . . ." Rain felt a stubborn scowl plague her face, "I know I shouldn't let it bother me. I thought I'd be used to it by now, but all I want to do is rip her apart and-,"

"-You've every right to be angry, Rain." Isiah interjected calmly.

Rain looked up to her friend, the anger slipping away from her system. His eyes were as knowing as they've ever been. Rain had forgotten that Isiah was fully aware of how ignorant people could be, especially toward people like him and Rain.

"It gets easier . . . I may act like I don't care when shit like this happens to me," he began, gazing at something quite distant, "but I was a kid once, too, you know."

" _Of course_ ," Rain murmured compassionately, gripping Isiah's hand much tighter as he refused to meet her eyes. She felt so empty when recalling her own unfortunate childhood and then applying it to a crestfallen little boy's life.

 _How quickly did Isiah have to grow up?_

"Mickey and I went to a bar once, Marquis of Lorne, way back when we was just young peakies." He smiled as the nostalgia glazed over his eyes. "A few blokes gave us weird looks when we turned up unannounced. Said they didn't want me there 'cause of my skin. The fuckers and I ended up brawling it out, yeah, but Mickey, oh man!" he joyed, reliving that grand moment. "He didn't think twice before fighting right beside me. You should've seen him, Rainy Day. Even though we took a beatin' he went wild with those punches! The best part was that they didn't even fuckin' know we was Peaky Blinders."

Rain laughed with Isiah as they swayed together. "So what happened?" she asked, imagining the scene play out in her mind.

"Let's just say you won't find Marquis of Lorne on no map of Birmingham." He held his chin up in triumph.

"That's very satisfying to hear." Rain accepted the fate of the backwards bar, and only hoped the rest of Birmingham would let go of their prejudices.

"The point is, Rainy Day, that I'm not ashamed of who I am, so I don't let any bloke get in my way." When he spoke, he was being completely serious. It was the most serious Rain had ever seen Isiah, which made his words that much more impactful. "And Mickey ain't the type to care either, if that's all you're worried about. Just know that he'd die for you."

Those were Isiah's last words before Rain felt him stop in his step and loosen his grip. It was more than enough to set Rain's mind in the right place. She silently acknowledged the blessing that was Isiah Jesus and how beautifully he impacted her life over the past month. Of course he _did_ conduct many mischievous brawls and endless nights of drinking, but Rain decided to disregard that for the time being.

The sound of someone clearing his throat broke the barrier of Rain's thoughts. Isiah let go of her waist and opened the space between them to let Michael come into view.

Michael stood charmingly with one hand behind his back and one hand out for Rain to take.

"Might I cut in, Rain?" he asked with a wicked smile.

The grey-eyed girl felt a strong force rap against her chest. Rain took one last look at Isiah. He let go of her hand and nodded insistently in Michael's direction. She mouthed the words, 'thank you' before he pranced away with a smug look, into the on looking crowd.

Rain felt Michael take her hand and she was swiftly tugged into his arms. Her short hair continued to fly forward even as Michael caught hold of her. Her breath hitched and it took her a moment to regain her sense of balance, for she was already dancing.

If Isiah's dancing was smooth then Michael was on a completely different level on the agility scale. It was puzzling, for Rain never expected him to be so adept at dancing. She figured he was only quick on his feet when fighting. Nevertheless, Michael held onto her with just the right amount of force as he led her into a soft sway amongst the crowd.

For a while they said nothing to each other.

Rain took in the darkness of the ballroom around her and the twinkling lights that flickered here and there. She held her head against Michael's chest, closed her eyes, and felt the rhythm of his heartbeat match with the soothing music.

For a while they silently played a game.

Rain's heart raced the closer Michael's breath hit her bare neck. She tightened her grip on his hand. In a way, dancing with Michael felt like they were fighting. With each move he made, Rain found herself wanting nothing more than to best Michael at his own game.

For a while they forgot they were playing.

Michael and Rain drifted around the ballroom with ease. Their movements were no longer combatting each other. They moved as one.

He held Rain gently, and she sank into his embrace, allowing him to lead.

For a while they felt as if they were the only two beings in that room.

It could've been hours since they'd inhaled their last breath of reality. It may have been days, but Rain and Michael wouldn't have noticed.

Finally, when the music had shifted, and the brass instruments began to fasten in pace, Rain had pulled herself away from Michael's chest and locked her eyes with his.

The lights weren't as dim anymore. And though the peering eyes were more apparent, Rain found herself unable to care. However, it was quite noticeable that once she began dancing with Michael, the peculiar glares might've doubled in number.

"Forget about them, Rain." Michael whispered to her as he eased into the rhythm of the music.

She averted her eyes, looking to her feet as they moved together. He had been able to read her so quickly. "I forgot how it felt to be seen." She admitted.

"Which reminds me," he smirked, "when's the last time I told you how beautiful you are?"

Rain scoffed, "You know, I don't recall, Mr. Gray." She met his eyes once more.

"Well, Miss. Cassin, I'd like to formally announce that you are _truly_ the most magnificent person I've ever come to know."

There are very rare moments when Michael Gray would share truths he strongly believed. These truths formed at the core of his heart, these truths were the most crucial parts of Michael Gray's life. As the heat rushed to Rain's face, she realized that this was one of those moments. And she immediately felt lost while searching for the right thing to say.

Michael smiled from ear to ear. "Have I managed to silence Rain Cassin?"

It felt like for the first time Rain was truly looking at Michael. Michael Gray. The boy she deeply cared for who loved to play games, fight, ride horses, drive fast cars, and trick her into wearing dresses. Michael Gray, who grew furious at the _idea_ of Rain getting hurt.

Michael Gray, the boy who saw Rain for who she was and always could be.

When she failed to conjure up anything remotely competent, Rain slowed their dancing to a halt and kissed his lips.

She felt as though that was the only way she could sincerely reply to Michael's declaration. As he tightened his grip around her thin frame, Rain could almost taste the impatience forming within Michael.

After what felt like eons, Rain had broken the kiss.

Michael was breathless, resting his forehead against hers. Every kiss was like their first. Rain's insides were fluttering with excitement as he held her close. The thought of anyone staring did not enter her conscious mind for one second. Michael's eyes were the only ones she wanted to stare into for the remaining time she had left on this earth.

Only when he breathed, "I want to show you something," onto her lips did Rain consider letting go of his gaze.

Rain pecked him once more on his lips.

"Lead the way."


	30. Wedding Part V: Red Door

The night was young and it was theirs.

Michael led Rain out into the cold with his hand holding dearly onto hers. The music from the party grew distant as he impatiently dragged her across the stone pathway, and yet a symphony of visible laughter emitted from their mouths and into the tranquil night.

When Michael stated that they were bound for Rain's car, she immediately dashed ahead of him. She felt the frosty air nip at her nose as she raced forward in her heels. Her girlish laugh escaped her lips, knowing that Michael wouldn't think twice before running after her.

This was the truest game Rain may have ever played with Michael.

It may have been the first time in a long time Rain let herself forget about appearances or the facades she had built up over the years. She let everything be.

No threats. No tasks. No jobs. It was time to breathe, time to live.

Rain weaved around the cars parked upon the lot. Her giggling would not cease as the sound of Michael chasing her echoed along. She hid and dashed. He pursued and stifled his laughs. They were two children who had, unknowingly, forgotten about their responsibilities.

Two children who had forgotten about their bleak pasts.

Michael finally caught up with Rain's quick escapes and enveloped her in his arms before she could get away, sweeping her off her feet in surprise. He held her tightly and cherished the sight of her uncontrollable laughter.

The young couple danced, and kissed, and sang out loud as if these were their last moments together, and not a drop of alcohol plagued their minds.

 _Were they mad?_

No.

The night was young and it was _truly_ theirs.

* * *

"Can I open my eyes now?" Rain whined.

"What part of a surprise don't you understand?" Michael cautioned.

He had been driving Rain's new car for more than ten minutes now and expected her to remain seated without any view of where they were headed.

"Will you at least tell me if we're close to our destination?" she huffed in her seat.

"Sweetheart?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Please shut up."

Rain scowled, turning her body toward Michael. She imagined a coy grin forming upon his face. Nevertheless, she let her complaints dissolve into the cold air and slumped back in the passenger's seat.

When she was sure Michael wasn't watching her, Rain managed to sneak a peak of their surroundings. The rhythm of the tires treading over the rough earth felt somewhat familiar as he drove on which led Rain to open her eyes completely. It somehow agitated her oldest memories.

Though the visibility beyond her headlights was scarce, Rain's heart jumped in her chest as Michael steered the car deeper into the darkness.  
 _I know this place…_

At first, Rain decided this was all a dream. But as the lights reflected off a nearby lake, the dream felt more like a living memory _. An altered memory_ , for everything was shadowed under the night sky. A memory she could smell and touch and taste.

Rain could no longer hide the fact that her eyes weren't closed. She shot up straight in her seat as her chest heaved with heavy breaths. Michael slightly turned the car towards the right and its lights suddenly beamed on a small cottage in the distance. With every passing second it appeared larger against the starry night.

The car was gradually slowing down once it grew closer to the cottage, but Rain didn't wait for it to stop. She hitched the door open and managed to slip out of the car without falling on the flat earth.

There it was, just as she had remembered, with its red door and small windows.

So quiet, so lonely.

Rain ran up to it without delay while paying no heed to Michael's protests from inside the car. He turned the car before placing it in park so that the lights were no longer facing Rain's childhood home. The darkness swallowed it, and yet she was still drawn to the familiarity of it.

Even as Michael rushed out of the car, calling after her, Rain did not stop in her tracks. Excitement and uncertainty propelled her to open the decaying red door and rush inside the dark room.

Only when she found herself alone in the vast, dismal room did Rain cease to move.

In that small moment of solitude . . . it all came rushing back to her like a roaring waterfall.

Rain stood tensely in the room while her eyes surveyed the dilapidated room. Her heart rate fell and all of her senses ticked on like clockwork.

It was colder inside. The room smelled of dust and rotting wood. What Rain once perceived as a wide ballroom now appeared as a tight, confined opening. There was no furniture. There were no decorations. There were no flowers growing upon the windowsill. There wasn't a sign of life.

The dust on the floor was disturbed. Rain acknowledged that there had been people here before her, but it did nothing to speed up her brain's way of processing where she stood.

Rain refrained from moving as Michael rushed inside behind her. He was in mid speech before realizing that Rain stood frozen in the center of the single roomed cottage with her hands shoved into the pockets of her coat.

"Did you find the diamonds here?" she emitted solemnly into the darkness.

"I wanted to tell you before you came inside." Michael coaxed her from behind in a voice softer than silk.

 _Too bad,_ Rain thought. If they had found them, it would've relieved her of any remaining worries.

The diamonds.

Jack Bowery Crimson.

Her safety. _Michael's safety._

She was able to forget all of that for a few hours, it only made sense that any imminent harm would be relevant now that she stood in this room.

This familiar, yet foreign room.

When Rain said nothing, Michael slowly shifted closer to her. "I didn't know how you'd react . . . but I figured you'd want to see it." He stood directly behind her now. "You should've seen Tommy's face when we found out this place was a few kilometers away from his own home."

Rain let loose a shaky breath and eased her left hand into Michael's. Her mind seemed to set in place as he tightened his grip around her fingers. The numb sensation was slowly dissipating.

It was rather bittersweet.

This was once her home. This was once her safe haven. And now it was a closet filled with memories she forced away into a locked box. All at once, they gnawed at Rain's mind. Flashes of sunshine flickered in from the cracked windows. Images of her father reappeared near the right end of the cottage. A stream of joyful laughs erupted, only to be swallowed by a roaring cry of anguish and black smoke.

Her childhood flashed away as quickly as it was conjured.

It was Michael's strong grip that rendered Rain back into that disheveled room. The grey-eyed girl brushed away her sadness and regarded the boy who held her in his arms.

He didn't have to bring her here. He wasn't obligated to show her what Mr. Shelby's men had found . . . and yet he thought of her.

"Thank you, Michael." She whispered against his lips before brushing her own against them.

This cottage was her past. Seeing it helped Rain decide it was time for a new future.


	31. Wedding Part VI: Red Right Hand

Thank you all for such nice words :) Sorry for not posting consistently. I've got the story mapped out, it's only the college work that cuts in my time for writing. I'm glad you guys like where it's going, hope you like the upcoming twists and turns 3

-Fia

* * *

For some odd reason, Rain's night was going perfectly.

She began to question the perfection of this night and reflected upon her day.

Rain was dreaming high up in the clouds after a breathtaking night. She had woken up that morning next to someone who never failed to evoke a roaring flame within her chest every time he looked at her. Her growing heart melted at the sight of Grace's matrimony with Mr. Shelby. She was soaring amongst the stars when Ada had forgiven her. There wasn't possibly a string of words Rain could use to describe her reunion with Ruben Oliver. After all of that, she had danced with her best mate and then with Michael.

Michael Gray.

Rain Cassin and Michael Gray walked side by side, hand in hand once they made it back to Mr. and Mrs. Shelby's manor.

They didn't dash, they didn't run, they didn't skip, nor did they jump towards the entrance.

As Michael kicked rocks with his shoe, and the chilling air settled around her, Rain pondered as to when it had become natural for them to be together and simply share the silence. Almost every moment they spent together prior to their . . . _escalated_ relationship, Rain felt inclined to insult Michael's physical appearance or to shove him aside if he were in her way. Now . . . well she couldn't process the words but she felt quite _centered_.

Rain felt calm, tranquil, serene, and any other term that properly fit her relaxed state whenever Michael so much as _stood_ nearby.

 _She could finally breathe._

They came to a stop and he kissed her near the stone fountain, stealing away that steady breath.

"I'm to meet Tommy in his office at midnight," he said against her lips before slipping his hands away from her body. "I'll find you afterwards."

And then he had left her, treading into the barren corridor of the lively manor. But Rain detected a flash in Michael's eyes that searched for any sign of a challenge and it sent a jolt of mischief up her spine. She dashed into the manor where the music overshadowed her charging footsteps.

Rain had jumped up into the air and tackled Michael from behind.

"Rain!" He shouted out in protest, laughing as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

She began kissing Michael's cheek and down his neck, repeatedly, in between her girlish giggling.

"What's gotten into you?" he suppressed a chuckle, struggling to get Rain onto the floor. When he succeeded, she managed to shove him against the wall of the empty corridor with her hands against his broad chest.

Her eyes were aligned with Michael's. Rain felt him release a deep breath as he refused break contact.

"He needs you at _midnight_ ," she said with a grin.

"And?" he raised a confused brow.

Rain rolled her eyes and clasped her palm onto Michael's shoulder, directing him toward the door of the coatroom.

" _And_ you are impossible, Mr. Gray." She sighed, slipping inside the dark room. "Can you not detect when a female desires your company?" she taunted before shutting the door behind her and letting the darkness consume them.

Rain could not clearly see Michael in the shadowed room, but it was obvious that he was smiling the way he grabbed on to her by the hips and pulled her against him with a groan.

"I believe we have-," Rain began before Michael intervened with his lips against her own.

"Ten-," she felt his hands slide all over her.

"-Or fifteen minutes before-," his fingers tugged on her short hair.

"-Your services are needed outside of this closet." Rain sighed in between his feverish kisses that sent her thoughts into a restless spiral.

Michael refrained from lulling his pace until he undid the buttons to Rain's coat, letting it slip off her shoulders. Only then did he let go of her lips.

Rain's breathing matched Michael's as he granted her that moment of clarity.

"You've no idea how much I want to rip off this dress," he coaxed in her ear.

Rain curled his locks along her fingers and kissed the skin under his jaw. The sounds he tried to restrain in his throat sent her desires in flurries from her fingertips to her chaotic thoughts. She released a tense sigh before whispering in his ear, "You rip this dress, and I'll cut off your fingers."

Rain pulled back to view the amused face of Michael Gray.

"As the lady wishes."

* * *

Rain made her departure from the coatroom after Michael, unwillingly, left. She stayed behind to adjust her stockings and hair more thoroughly but quickly caught up to him after a few guests had passed by. The pair looked sharp and collected, yet Rain's cheeky grin did nothing to hide the moments of leisure she spent with Michael.

Stepping into the corridor sent a fresh breeze over her skin. Though there were fewer guests because of the late hour, Rain still wondered if they had an idea as to why she was surging with energy. _Would they notice?_ Rain pondered tantalizingly if they might've heard her stifling cries, if her hair appeared as if someone had grasped onto it, if the ghost of someone else's lips were traceable upon her own.

The thought if it evoked a delectable smile upon her freckled face that matched Michael's. It was some kind of a secret only he could guess.

As the two made their way down the corridor, Ada made an appearance from the other end. Her eyebrows shot up in excitement before she ambled over to the couple. She eyed Rain mischievously before slowing to a stop.

"Well hello, _Renée._ " She sang over the faint swinging music.

Rain suddenly slowed down in her tracks beside Michael, who blinked in confusion. There was rarely a time when Michael wasn't aware of the topic at hand.

"Renée?" he echoed.

Rain shook her head, "It's nothing." She tried dismissing the subject no matter how peculiar it felt to hear her birth name after so many years of trying to bury it.

"It most certainly is _not_ nothing," Ada exclaimed. "How many more secrets do you have locked up Rain? Honestly it's exhausting. Why not just spill it all out now? Do you have a younger brother we've never heard of?"

" _Renée?_ " Michael marveled to himself, tasting the roll of the "R" as it drifted to the soft "N".

"I promise you there aren't, Ada," Rain reassured sheepishly, "I didn't want to cause anymore confusion than I already have, so I decided to withhold that piece of information. Besides, my father always called me Rain. Guess I liked it better than Renée as a kid."

"That's rather fitting." Michael declared with a smile. "I like it, _Renée._ "

"Oh God, no." Rain playfully punched Michael's side.

"I, for one, am not convinced." Ada teased. "But your uncle _has_ managed to bring a smile on Polly's face, so I've decided to let it go . . . for now."

" _Uncle?"_ Michael uncharacteristically voiced with wide eyes.

Ada began to explain at once. However, Rain's attention wandered elsewhere as her friend spoke on. Though she didn't mean for her focus to drift away, it was difficult for her to ignore the group of guests who bore at her from a distance.

" . . . I think Polly fancies him quite- Rain who are you glaring at now?"

Standing at the end of the hallway was that 'lovely red bird', as Isiah had described.

"Are you all right?" Michael asked, looking over her as if she'd been wounded when she didn't reply.

Rain's ears went hot with anger. Her expression did little to disguise her inner thoughts of potential murder.

Red Bird stood near the threshold to the ballroom, away from the dancing guests and the loud music. She was leaning against the polished wall with a glass of champagne curled in her dainty fingers. She was speaking to an unnaturally tall boy while a few other unfamiliar faces listened idly, though all their eyes were focused on Rain every now and then. It was as if they were refraining from looking at her all at once.

Michael had lined his vision with Rain's. Red Bird failed to look away as Stretch poorly choked back a cackle. So Michael stood in front of Rain. He held her by the shoulders.

"Remember what Tommy said." He stated rationally.

"I know, I know," she waved a hand, "no _fucking_ fighting." It was dubious how quickly her mood fell. Maybe it was because she had to at least _try_ and restrain herself. _For Grace_ , she kept telling herself.

"Were you planning on fighting all of them?" Ada protested.

"You've no idea how much I want to, Ada." Rain grumbled.

"Well . . . in that case, I think Michael should introduce you."

Rain almost choked on air, "You're joking?"

"That's an excellent idea, Ada. Excuse us." Rain couldn't believe her ears when she realized that it was Michael Gray who had emitted these words into existence.

Without another breath to waste, Michael had hooked her arm around his own and led her into a brisk walk. Rain barely had a moment to register that she was in motion. Ada was suddenly behind her once the quick movement blurred her vision.

" _How in fuck's name do you think this could be a good idea?"_ Rain tried faltering back. Back to incinerate Ada for making such a horrible suggestion.

"Maybe you _should_ clear the air, _Renée,_ " he stated as if Ada's advice was ingenious. Unwillingly, Rain was treading closer to Red Bird and her towering companion.

Rain rasped in Michael's ear, " _I thought you had a meeting with Mr. Shelby!"_

"Be nice." He quickly whispered.

 _Unbelievable._ _Was this a trick? Was this a silly game?_

It all felt like a chore, like a punishment. Knowing Michael, it was probably just another challenge. However, Rain couldn't help but perceive this as an act of parlay. Of all the opportunities he had to act like a human being, he chose this one, dragging Rain alongside him. Surprisingly, Rain's glare wasn't vile enough to render the conniving lot into the shadows. They remained in their superior stance even as Michael forced her into their direction from behind.

"Hello again, Michael." Red Bird sang. The music in her voice was faltered slightly once she regarded Rain.

"Scarlet," Michael greeted and shook hands with Stretch, "Edmund."

 _Fitting names_ , Rain thought, _blunt names for blunt features._ She was more relieved that he didn't introduce anyone else in the circle.

"And who is your lovely _date_ this evening?" Scarlet voiced with enough life to appear interested.

"This is Rain Cassin," Michael urged her forward. "Rain, Scarlet and Edmund O'Connor are Grace's second cousins."

"What an odd name," Scarlet uttered monotonously, "Where exactly are you from?"

The distaste in her voice was just enough for the raging lights to tick on in Rain's bleak thoughts.

"Is _that_ what you've been trying to figure out all night?" Rain inquired with false wonder.

"Excuse me?" Scarlet cocked her head to the side, greatly taken aback by Rain's quick response.

"There must be some reason as to why you haven't been able to keep your eyes off me." Rain ignored Michael's silent protests and reveled in the O'Connor siblings' moment of ignorance. "I was beginning to make assumptions about your _intentions_ , Miss. O'Connor," she grinned manically, "but then I thought, perhaps it's because we've met before?"

Red Bird and Stretch: both at loss for the proper reaction. Rain could feel the tightness of Michael's grip around her waist. It was a silent plead. A plead to 'be nice', but honestly what did Michael expect? There wasn't a _drop_ of diplomacy in Rain's blood. She found it futile to hand out her forced kindness when it involved such wretched individuals.

Unexpectedly, Scarlet's blue eyes scanned all of Rain with confusion, "I'm sure I'd recall if we did."

"Then I'd appreciate it if you'd quit gawking at me."

"I apologize, Miss. Cassin, if I have offended you." Scarlet voiced with what appeared like genuine remorse.

"Well you have done exactly that, _Miss. O'Connor_."

"Forgive me, I was only admiring your beautiful dress from afar." Scarlet took a long sip of champagne from her glass until it was empty.

Rain felt Michael squeeze her side once more. _See, Rain?_ But she knew girls like Scarlet. She had changed her attitude towards Rain the moment she spoke.

"Is that right?" Rain spectated.

"Why don't I get us some more drinks?" Michael insisted.

"How thoughtful of you, Michael." Scarlet beamed, even as Michael drifted away.

She knew he'd only be away for a moment but Rain had half a mind to wrench Michael back or even run away. Oddly enough, she stood calmly before Red Bird, eager to know what she was really like. When no one of importance was around to observe her.

"Is what you say true?" Rain asked, guards still up. Though she couldn't help but wonder if this was all in her head.

"Of course," Scarlet delighted, "I remember sporting the exact same gown last spring. Although, one could say the pale colors don't suit the current season."

"Don't be daft, Scarlet." her brother had began before Rain could, "Obviously Miss. Cassin is not accustomed to England's latest fashion trends."

"Oh!" Red Bird piped, "You must pardon my mistakes, Miss. Cassin."

Rain laughed internally. _She had been right._ "No worries, I gather you make a lot of silly mistakes, Miss. O'Connor." said Rain, "Which only makes your company slightly less unbearable."

That second of comprehension joyed Rain.

Edmund's blue eyes narrowed in fresh anger. "How dare you-," Edmund heatedly began.

"-Relax, Eddy," Scarlet softly interjected, "I think I can handle Miss. Cassin's outbursts."

The most peculiar thing Rain observed that night was Scarlet's expression. She seemed . . . entertained by Rain's confrontation. Little did Scarlet know that Rain had gladly accepted that subtle challenge.

Rain crossed her hands over her chest. "Tell me, Scarlet, what is it that you find so amusing? Is it the fact that I look nothing like you or that I've been welcomed by _your_ cousin to her wedding?" she questioned.

"I have no say in who Grace can or cannot invite to her wedding." Scarlet countered.

"Ah! Then it must be because of something I've done, not because of this silly dress." Rain pondered.

Scarlet showcased her most winning smile. "You seem to be quite invested in my opinion, Miss. Cassin. Now it is _I_ who is making assumptions about your intentions."

"Surely you could do better than that, Scarlet." Rain caught sight of Scarlet's blue eyes falter just beyond her. When Rain looked back, the only familiar face she could find was that of Michael's. He was making his way across the room with those drinks. A laugh made its way out of Rain without her permission. "So that's it, isn't it?" she contemplated before turning back to face Scarlet. "You only dislike me because of the boy who welcomes me. The boy who you want to claim as your own."

"Say the word, Scarlet, and I'll shut her up real quickly." Edmund spat.

"Are you in love with him, too, Eddy?" Rain marveled. "I do wish your intentions weren't so pathetic. This puzzle would've been much more fun to figure out, Jesus, now the mystery is all gone." For the first time that night, Rain felt it was most satisfying to have Red Bird glare at her like that. "Have you run out of jokes, love?" she challenged.

Almost instantly, Scarlet's scowl dissipated only to be disguised by a sinister grin.

"I'm only amused that you can speak English so properly." Scarlet ridiculed. "Isn't it amusing, Edmund, how a Chinese _Gypsy_ was invited to this wedding? I'm sure our Grace only allowed it to appear more charitable. No doubt Michael's in it only for the fuck."

Rain could practically visualize her anger levels rising as her ears began to heat up and her heart pounded impatiently against her chest.

"The only joke here tonight is you, _Love_. You and that blackie."

Somehow, Rain managed to slip out of reality. It may have been because she moved too quickly, it may have been because she had imagined it all. She couldn't remember if she had laughed before charging at Scarlet or if she just swiftly pounced into action with a growl. But she couldn't come to a conclusion.

All she could process was the electrifying heat that raided her mind and then a sudden rush of pain that formed around her knuckles. She was still red with fury when Michael pulled her away, but there was red everywhere.

Red on her fist, red on the floor, red dripping from Scarlet's nose. Her brother was on the floor with her as she wailed in pain.

The clamor finally erupted in Rain's conscious mind as Michael clenched her red wrist. Scarlet was crying with her hands covering her bloody nose. The few guests around them began to turn their necks at the sight.

Rain took a moment to survey herself. Not a single a scratch.

When she turned her attention to Scarlet once more, her brother was glaring up at them.

"My nose!" she bawled.

" _For Christ's sake!"_ Edmund spat, " _Control your fuckin' whore, Gray!_ "

Suddenly, Rain was completely free from any restraint. With a rush of motion Edmund was no longer consoling his sister, but up against the wall.

The room around them grew hushed. No one uttered a word as Michael gripped a frozen Edmund by the throat.

Footsteps echoed through the silent corridor, overpowering the guttural sounds emitting from Edmund. It was Polly and Ruben Oliver who made their way to the scene with wide eyes. Rain found herself desperately trying to hide her bloody hand as Ruben Oliver stopped in his place and found her at the center of the chaos.

She didn't want this; she didn't want her uncle to see her this way.

Polly was still in action, racing to her son with haste. She began furiously whispering in his ear, but Rain was too far to hear anything. She looked away and found Ada leading other guests out of the hallway and back into the ballroom.

So levelheaded, Ada was. _Why can't I be like that?_ Once the remaining adrenaline dripped away, anxiety began to fill Rain's bloodstream. Her one instruction was as lucid as ice: no fighting.

 _What have I done?_

Her bloody knuckles began to throb. The pain was settling in.

Michael was no longer in control of Edmund. The tall boy clenched his bruising throat and kneeled to his sister on the floor.

 _Was she still crying?_

Rain couldn't tell. Her eyes met Ruben Oliver's. Her uncle was walking toward her. Almost instantly, Rain turned away in efforts to leave but Ada had caught her just before she could escape.

"No, Rain." She consoled quietly. "No running." She held Rain by the arm. "Come with me."

Ada led Rain away, careful not to touch her red hand. The grey-eyed girl began in her stride, refraining from looking at anyone.

She couldn't face Polly, her uncle, or Michael. This was not meant to happen, but she had let it. The only thought significant enough to stand out amongst the rest was of Grace. _Grace_.

Only the sound of her footsteps treading across the barren hall was audible. No matter how hard she wanted them to stop existing, they wouldn't. No matter how badly she wanted to take back that awful moment . . . she couldn't find herself feeling sorry for hitting Scarlet. She was only sorry it wasn't done outside, that other people had seen it, that it was done at Grace's wedding.

For some odd reason, this night went horribly wrong.

And Rain had a horrible feeling it was all her doing.


	32. Retribution

Embarrassment.

 _No_ , shame.

 _Perhaps mortification?_

Comprehending any emotion was becoming exceedingly difficult with every passing moment in which Rain sat in that ominous room. She was completely alone. She could no longer hear the music from the vast salon Ada left her in. She sat motionless with nothing but her vexing thoughts to eat at her sanity. The grey-eyed girl couldn't remember the last time she felt so paralyzed.

Flashes of her horrific moments with Jack Bowery Crimson raced across her thoughts.

 _That's right!_

Rain had suffered much worse, and yet this form of punishment was more agonizing. Of course the wedding was over by now, it was already so late in the night. Still, Rain was disappointed with herself for acting so violently before the night was over. It was even more disappointing that she couldn't remember half of it.

As she sat upon the uncomfortable sofa, Rain fixated her eyes on the polished door, paying no head to the rest of the bleak room. It may have been a full hour since she was left alone. Her right hand was now covered in dry blood to match the drops on her pink dress. She didn't bother to wipe it clean. And when the door was finally cracked open, in came Grace.

Grace Shelby, in her beautiful purple dress.

The golden woman gingerly shut the door and ambled along the room with Rain's remorse following not too far behind. In she came with a wet rag in her hand. Rain's gaze fell to the floor as Grace neared her. Unknowingly, she ran her hands down the sides of her legs as though her dress had pockets. Of course, once she noticed the lack of coverage, Rain felt overly exposed.

"Miss. Kinsley . . ." Grace sighed, "Or do you prefer, Cassin?" A soft hum escaped her lips.

It was enough kindness for Rain to raise her head and _look_ at Mrs. Grace Shelby. If not for the numbing sensation that ran along her veins, Rain would've cried at the sight of Grace's endearing smile. Instead, she sat with a baffled look until Grace finally sat down beside her on the sofa, taking Rain's red hand in her own clean ones. She began to run the wet rag along the blood, exposing the blue forming on Rain's skin.

"I assumed you'd be shaken up after what happened." Grace acknowledged, as she continued to cautiously clean Rain's hand.

"Grace," Rain began wearily, "If what I did angered Mr. Shelby, or you for the matter, I-,"

"Hush, my dear." Grace asserted. It was the most serious tone she'd use against Rain. "I don't want to hear any apologies escape you about this. Not tonight. Not ever."

Somehow, it all felt like a cruel joke. Like Mr. Shelby was waiting behind the door, ready with a pistol that held the bullet meant for Rain's head. Rain laughed in disbelief, "You realize that I laid a hand on your cousin?" she continued to wipe away, " _Grace_ , you're cleaning the hand of the girl that struck her."

"I am cleaning the hand of a girl who struck a self-centered, attention-seeking child who deserved it most. It was indecent. It was ill-mannered. I will have no one at my wedding insulting my friends."

When Rain said nothing, Grace finished polishing her hand and held it in her own, tossing the bloodstained rag on the side table. Forgotten, like Rain's violent reactions.

"Michael was close enough to hear her before you acted." Grace held up Rain's chin the moment she let it drop. "Did you think I'd expect an apology from you after what she said about you and Isiah? What kind of woman do you take me as?"

 _What kind of woman?_

One couldn't explain how wondrous of a woman Grace was. What kind of woman would put Rain before her actual blood? What kind of woman would be considerate to a stranger, a newcomer, to a girl like Rain? What kind of woman found amusement in a situation like this, especially if it were on her wedding day?

Rain knew nothing of this kind of woman, except that she sat before her, as angelic as any other human she had ever met before. And for that reason, for the first time that night, Rain let herself cry.

She had danced, laughed, and loved that night . . . it was only fitting that she would cry.

Rain let silent tears fall along her cheeks and slip off her jaw. She let Grace hold her in her arms. She let Grace brush her fingers along her hair. She let Grace sooth her as her breathing faltered, as her constricted sobs softly escaped her throat, as her body tensed.

"I thought you were so mad at me." Rain managed to whisper.

Grace let go of Rain, though she continued to hold her bruised hand. "If anything, my dear, I'm rather relieved that someone finally silenced that ignorant girl."

Astonishingly, a laugh escaped Rain. Snot and tears sputtered as she tried wiping it away. How could one feel so miserable and relieved at the same time?

"What have I said to you before about your life?" Grace inquired, as if she were a school instructor.

"It's the one thing I can control." Rain muttered.

Grace wiped away the stray tear on Rain's cheek. "So don't let anyone compromise that if you feel what you're doing is right."

"It did feel pretty good, at first." Rain laughed softly. "I was only worried about how people would think of you or Mr. Shelby."

"Fuck the people."

Nothing else could've made Rain feel any better about what she did. No one else but Grace could've achieved this. And for that, Rain silently prayed for the Lord to bless this beautiful being she was not worthy of sitting near before agreeing, " _Fuck the people_."

* * *

"Fuck them all." Michael hissed just as Mr. Shelby walked into the guest room and shut the door behind him.

" _That's_ e _nough_ , Michael." Polly warned her son, paying no head to her nephew. "After today, you are to drive straight to that boy's home and apologize."

Michael forced himself to keep his voice down, but the gravity in his words weighed heavily on Polly's command. "That is _never_ going to happen." Never in a million years would Michael even think about apologizing for pinning Edmund O'Connor against a wall by his throat. Not for what he said. Not for what Scarlet had said. He could still feel the blood rushing to his head, that uncontrollable urge to mangle a human being to shreds.

"There will be no apologizing." Mr. Shelby interjected calmly before stepping into the dim light. He appeared distant and tense. Michael knew instantly that it was not because of the fighting.

"There's more to it than just that, Tommy." Michael muttered under his breath as he leaned against the wall facing the windows of the guest room. He did his best to avoid his mother's gaze.

"So, we're going to forget about all this then?" Polly argued with an eerie sense of calm. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Are we going to forget about this Russian business, too?"

"The Russians," Mr. Shelby began with a fleeting change of tone, "are not your concern, Polly."

There was a petrifying moment of silence parading around the room. Polly froze in her place, froze in her analyzing stance. She was calculating Mr. Shelby's words, taking in the meaning behind his discrete behavior, measuring how angry he was. Those dark eyes, they were so knowing, so quick to catch the truth.

"All right," she released her arms. "Let's discuss why we're all here tonight. Rain's behavior tonight-,"

"-Was completely reasonable." Michael interupted.

"I've spoken to Grace, Pol." Mr. Shelby exhaled, "There's no bad blood."

" _It was disturbingly unhinged_." Polly finished gravely. Even Michael didn't respond. He refused to look at his mother, partly because she was right. "You weren't there, Tommy. You didn't see the way she struck that girl, how she reacted. It was quicker than any blow I'd ever seen unfold. Not a single hint of recognition was on Rain's face after she did it. Ask her about it now, if you must. I'll bet you she wouldn't remember one second of it all."

"Besides the fact that our Rain is more than capable of defending herself," Mr. Shelby wiped his right palm against his eyes lethargically. "What exactly is the point of your argument, Pol?"

"Christ! Am I the only one who thinks things through?" Polly inquired with frustration. "You're ready to throw the fate of Crimson's life in her hands. That's what you promised Rain, did you not?" she didn't wait for him to answer. Polly knew it was already slipping into his thoughts. "I see it in her eyes, Tommy. The moment you brought her into the office, I saw that she was slipping. I thought she went mad when we got her back from Crimson, that _bastard_ , all cut up and broken. Now we find out about the fucker of a father she had." For this she turned to Michael. "You saw her, Michael. Don't lie to me, do you think she'd be the same after she's finished with Crimson?"

"Do you suggest we shelter Rain from this?" Mr. Shelby addressed Polly's attention back to him. "All this?" he questioned, "One slip up and suddenly we scrap this job?"

He waited for Polly's defense. She did not reply, but her eyes whispered tales of fire.

"I didn't think so." He began once more. "She signed up for it, Pol. This is how our business works. It's been like this since the beginning. It doesn't matter what you or I want. A deal's a deal."

"She has every right to do what she wants to him." Michael stated firmly.

As soon as Michael spoke Polly redirected her vehement focus on him. She closed in on her son and made sure that he was paying very close attention to her words.

"You give her that man to kill, then the Rain you know will no longer exist."

* * *

Grace left Rain to herself, informing her that she could retire to her room whenever she was ready.

When the grey-eyed girl finally left the ominous salon, she headed into the dark hallway. There was little to no chatter, only footsteps coming her way.

It was Ruben Oliver who turned the corner. Rain abruptly stopped in her path at the sight of her uncle, though he continued to walk over to her. With each step, Rain began to shrink at a faster rate.

 _Did he see me?_

With each step, she ached for the darkness to swallow her up.

Grace knew of Rain, her tendencies, her habits, and that is why it was easier to face her. But Grace did not know _Renée_ and Ruben Oliver had never met _Rain_.

They were two different people. The grey-eyed girl felt this conflict trickle over her clarity. Rain wondered when this ever came to be, but failed to conjure an answer before her uncle finally approached her.

Before he could say anything, Rain released her tense shoulders and spoke.

"I'm sorry you had to see that tonight." She began. Rain continued once she found him ready to listen. " . . . It's been hard, Uncle. Father left- he was taken, and when no one came I left. By now you know that Mr. Shelby is not the most _conventional_ businessman, but he is an honest man. He hired me for what I can do . . . for what I learned in dark alleyways amongst dishonest men." At this, Rain noticed his face fall, but she pushed herself to continue. "What I do for Mr. Shelby may not be ideal for a proper woman, but I haven't lived the most proper life, Uncle. I've been fighting for a long time and sometimes I can't find myself to stop . . . I'm – I'm sorry if I've disappointed you."

When she stopped, Rain wanted to dash, to disappear. When was the last time she felt truly sorry, truly ashamed?

"What makes you think I'd ever be disappointed in you, Renée?" said Ruben.

Rain cocked her head to the side. "But I-,"

"I had a talk with the bride earlier." He intervened, "She informed me on the . . . _context_ of tonight's mishap. Don't apologize, my darling." He took her bruised hand gently into his own, "I know more than anyone that you are no longer the child I once knew. You've formed into such an honest and strong woman. William would be proud to know that."

 _Was this really happening?_

Rain could not perceive the events playing out. First she hit a girl, not just any girl, but a relative of the bride. The bride and the only human being Rain considers her family proceed to stop her in the midst of an apology.

Was no one going to condemn her tonight?

With no tears left, no words, no apologies, Rain leaned forward onto Ruben's tall frame with her arms dangling at her side. It was what she'd do as a child when the right words weren't near. Rain felt her uncle place his lengthy arms around her frame. The familiar action felt like home. There was a fleeting moment in which she felt like a normal young girl again.

"This day has been incredibly unpredictable." Rain muffled into her Uncle's suit.

"I'm fully aware of what crazy blessings life throws at you."

Rain could hear the smile in his voice. "Do you mean Polly?"

Ruben Oliver let her go. "Actually I was referring to you, Renée." He eyed her sternly, "But if that's the card you're playing, then might we discuss the boy you were dancing with?"

"Which one?" she countered.

"I believe it's the one who was seconds away from killing another boy for your sake." he stated passively.

Rain bit back a laugh, "He's Polly's long lost son, Michael Gray. Do you not approve, Uncle?"

"I'm entirely confident in your ability to break noses, so I'm not worried about him crossing you." He jested, rendering Rain to laugh girlishly. "Does he make you happy, Renée?" Ruben asked sincerely.

No one had ever asked her what Michael meant to her in all seriousness. Those who knew of their fondness for each other didn't have to ask. They simply understood. It wasn't peculiar of her uncle to ask, though it was rather peculiar for Rain to admit it.

Amongst her thoughts, Rain nodded. "He really does, Uncle."

* * *

Ruben Oliver had escorted Rain to her room. He said his goodbyes and handed her a card with his number and address on it before leaving her.

" _I expect a call from you at least once a day!"_ he chimed.

The warmth of her uncle's departure traced its way to her face. Rain entered her dark room with a smile. Once closing the door behind her, it finally felt like the day's events were no longer intimidating. After lashing out on Scarlet O'Connor, Rain lost any intent on resting. Now that her actions were dismissed, she welcomed the slumber that weighed heavily on her thoughts.

She let out a deep breath and scanned the dark room. The sight of Michael asleep on her bed wrenched her thoughts back into life. Unlike the other times Rain had come across a dozed Michael, as strange as it sounded, he appeared agitated. The softness in his face was nowhere to be found. Rain couldn't blame him. This night was just as stressful for him. It could've also been the factor that he was still dressed, shoes and all.

Rain huffed quietly to herself before shoving off her shoes along with her bloody pink dress. Why was it that her nicest dresses were always covered in blood by the end of the night? Brushing the peevish thought away, the naked girl silently made her way across the room and into the bathroom. Exhaustion cheated her mind of clarity. All Rain could manage to wash off was the powder on her face before the fatigue took over. She slipped on a long shirt that was carelessly lying on the floor, and proceeded toward Michael. Stepping back into the room with a clean face and the lack heels or a dress completely shifted Rain's comfort level to the highest notch.

It was strange how clothes worked that way.

Michael's black shoes came off quite easily, but turning him over so that he wasn't lying on his stomach was the hard part. He wasn't the tallest boy, but his lean figure made up for it in weight. By this time she was on the other side of the bed. Rain grunted as she hauled Michael's heavy figure toward her, being ever so careful as to not wake him.

After a short segment of hard work, Rain finally managed to turn Michael so that he was facing the high ceiling. His breathing shifted slightly, Rain ceased her movement instantly. She sat motionless on the mattress beside him, waiting for his breathing to steady. Rain wondered if Michael's shortness of breath was caused by his body's unfamiliarity with so much pressure on his back. Nevertheless, she shook her head from over-analyzing and continued to unlatch his suspenders. She carefully placed them on the floor and began to lace her fingers through the buttons of his pocket vest.

So many articles of clothing! Rain blew out a silent sigh. She couldn't possibly let him sleep in such stiff clothing. Step by step, she managed to weave Michael's arms out of his vest and yank it out from under his back, and then came off his tie. All articles were thrown on the floor. With each button undone upon his shirt, his skin underneath became more apparent.

"If you wanted me naked, all you had to do was ask, Rainy." Michael whispered with his eyes closed.

Rain's ears grew hot, followed by confusion as to why she was embarrassed. The grey-eyed girl stopped at the last few buttons and jostled the boy's chest until his green eyes cracked open with a laugh.

"Fucking dickhead." She cursed under her breath.

"Come now, don't be mad, darling," Michael hummed with half-lidded eyes.

Rain refused to look at him, although it was hard not to gaze at his disheveled appearance. Michael eventually claimed his victory by tugging on Rain's arm until she let herself fall onto the bed beside him. "I appreciate your ambition." He said before kissing her forehead.

Rain breathed against his body, releasing the anxiety that raged her thoughts. It all seemed to combust into nothing once her breathing matched with Michael's in the dark room.

He began to weave his fingers lazily through her short hair. Naturally, Rain traced her fingers along Michael's half-exposed chest. Though she couldn't see his face, Rain knew Michael was ready to drift away for the night.

"I was waiting for you." He whispered, "Guess I dozed off too fast."

Adrenaline worked in such strange ways. It alarms people without warning, and disappears in the same manner.

"Today was . . ." Rain murmured against his chest, unable to find the right word.

"It went better than expected." Michael finished in a soft voice. The lethargic tone he used furthered Rain's desire to sleep.

"I did the one thing Mr. Shelby told me not to do." She expressed, more to herself than to Michael.

Michael shifted his position so that he was facing Rain, groaning as he urged his muscles to cooperate, "A wedding isn't a wedding until a fight breaks out."

"What kind of weddings do you attend?" she remarked with disbelief.

"The worst ones, honestly." Michael tightened his grip over her waist, "You'd be happy to know that this was the best one, yet."

The white moon was hidden behind the clouds, so minimal light shined in through the foggy windows. Amongst the darkness, Rain could spot the light in Michael's tired eyes. She thought carefully about what Grace said, what her uncle said. The silence around them settled. Within the silence, they spilled unspoken words about their unexpected night. The pair had woken up in the same bed that morning. After a string of substantial events, it almost felt like their day consisted of walking in an intricate circle.

The sudden realization of how late it was reined over Rain's perception. A yawn escaped her. " . . . I guess it could've gone worse." She whispered.

"Well, you _did_ break her nose." Michael mentioned, his eyelids were beginning to droop. Even when he was battling sleep, the strange boy's attention remained on Rain.

"I figured that much." Rain felt a slight tinge of remorse.

"Don't worry, it suits her." He murmured.

"How can you be so calm with this?"

Michael's failing eyes laid stagnant on Rain for a moment too long. "There are bigger things to worry about." He slid his hand up Rain's back. The sluggish boy pulled her closer until their foreheads were touching. "Go to sleep."

Rain narrowed her brows as Michael's eyelids won the war. "So you're telling me no one lectured you either?" she cradled her right hand over his jaw.

Michael's eyes remained shut. He sighed heavily with his shoulder sinking even further into the mattress. "Rainy, I love you, but can we _please_ go to sleep." He whined.

A sudden spark of life surged through Rain's body. Unknowingly, a smile escaped her. She looked around the dark room, making sure that she wasn't dreaming, and then back to Michael's sleeping figure. All at once, the fatigue had left her.

"You what?"

"Hmm?" he refused to move.

Rain sat up in the bed and nudged Michael until his eyes popped open. "What did you say?" she laughed at the sight of him struggling.

"What?!" he seemed genuinely confused.

"You _love_ me?" she could hear the smile in her voice and feel the newly spread warmth in her chest.

Michael made an effort to sit up as well. With all the remaining strength he could muster up, Michael huffed into a seated position and quickly hooked an arm around Rain's body before tipping her backwards. She flurried in quiet laughter as he buried his nose in her neck before they collapsed onto the opposite end of the bed with a bounce.

"Yes, I love you, you stubborn girl." He sighed in her ear. It tickled the skin behind Rain's ear, causing her to suppress her giggles. "Now, will you go to sleep?" he begged in a lulling voice.

Rain sighed in an exaggerated manner, turning so that she could kiss the side of Michael's lips that were visible. It was enough to render him slightly awake. Michael mirrored Rain's position on the bed with another exaggerated sigh to match hers.

"If it's any consolation," Rain whispered, her lips a breath away from Michael's, "I reckon I love you too, Michael Gray."

For that split moment of silence, Rain knew Michael was no longer plagued by his will to rest. Her didn't say a thing. Though his half-lidded eyes rested on her lips, Michael refrained from kissing Rain. His hand trailed along the shape of her body until it reached her collarbone, her neck, then her jawline, and finally her lips. He brushed his thumb against her plump lips before leaning in to steal a kiss.

Oddly enough, Rain thought it would've been hard to admit her affection for this boy she'd only known for a few months. And yet, it was the one decision she didn't have to think about before making it. In fact, it didn't appear as a decision, but an impulse. Loving Michael . . . it was a natural, mindless, effortless feeling.

When he kissed Rain, it was the most awake he'd been that whole day. She latched onto his body, to his lips, to his life before he could acknowledge it. The way she sighed against him, the way she pulled on his hair, the way she raged for more in the most subtle manner, it all sent his mind astray.

He was suddenly far from all the strain of today's events. He was in a different reality, with Rain as his only companion.

Finally, when Rain broke off the kiss he felt as if he'd awoken from a dream. A soft and light dream, a dream you wake up to with warm thoughts and a serene heart.

He knew nothing at that moment, worried about nothing, pondered about nothing. He felt nothing but the love he had for this unexplainable person who managed to find her way into his life.

Slowly, the two began to drift off. While in each other's arms, they let their slumber take over. And together they drifted into the most restful sleep they'd experienced in years.

* * *

Sunshine.

Rain noticed the lack of it once she slipped back into a conscious state.

Even so, it may have been one of the first mornings, in a long time, in which she woke up to a warm heart without the presence of the sun she yearned for. She breathed into the sheets and reached her arms out in a verbal stretch.

Michael wasn't in the bed beside her. Rain sat up. She had over slept.

Nevertheless, the grey-eyed girl managed to get out of bed feeling fully rested and ready for the day's events to pan out.

It took Rain no time at all to wash up and get dressed in her trousers. She stepped out of her room, and made her way to find Michael. From what she could recall from last night, she loved the stupid tool and wanted to express her feelings to the world for she felt on top of it all.

There was a skip to her step as she treaded down the stairs to the grand hall and slipped into the busy kitchen. For some reason, no one took advantage of the dining hall, not even the owner of the manor. They all decided to eat a late brunch in the kitchens. Rain entered the lively atmosphere. Every room outside of the kitchen felt like the opposite of where she stood.

Mindless conversations weaved through the counter. There was tea being passed around. Toast was being set on the table, along with eggs and jams. Boys were fighting over knives and forks, children were running about, and there wasn't a single maid in sight.

Grace was first to step away from the counter and her lethargic husband. "Rain," she greeted her with a warm smile. "I almost thought you'd sleep through lunch." The golden woman kissed Rain on the cheek before taking her hand. "Come and have some tea." She led her toward an open stool beside Ada.

"Good morning, everyone." Rain addressed the Shelby's before taking a seat.

"It's already noon," Ada scoffed while force-feeding Karl a green mixture. "You might as well stay upstairs with Michael until dinner."

Rain ears surged with heat. Isiah and Fin laughed from across the counter, indicating that even Polly might've heard her. She kicked Ada without discretion and shot a glare in her direction.

"Does he plan on coming down today at all?" Mr. Shelby grunted, before lighting a cigarette.

"Go on and fetch him, Rainy Day." Isiah taunted, "Lord knows if he's decent."

"Enough." Polly expressed without emotion as she continued to scan the morning paper.

Rain brushed aside her embarrassment as the chatter began once more. She sat up in her seat and reached for the tea. "I only just woke up." She exhaled, "I thought he'd be in here."

"Well he hasn't been here all morning." Polly remarked in a tight voice.

Maybe it was just Rain's mind clouded with embarrassment, but Polly appeared more than her usual moody self that afternoon. She had thought her uncle's presence might've changed her perspective to the brighter side of life, but it may have just been too early to see any influence. Though Rain couldn't help but sense that something was very off.

"He wasn't by the stables." Fin chimed in.

"I ain't seen him either." Isiah mentioned.

Ada ceased feeding Karl. "Well was there any business to conduct today?"

Arthur put down his fork, "Everyone was given off today, ain't like Michael to miss a gathering."

Rain looked up from her tea. The ruckus around the counter began to die down. She felt the panic beginning to form in her stomach, but forced it down.

Mr. Shelby looked around the table once the silence grew louder. "Well, has anyone seen him?"

When no one uttered a word, the panic took over Rain's body.

The grey-eyed girl stood up from her stool and rushed out of the kitchen. She could hear the scraping of chairs as she headed out into the hall. There were others rushing behind her, she only hoped it wasn't Polly who was racing close by.

Rain made her way up the staircase. With each step, her anxiety took over. In an ordinary family, this wouldn't have been the mental state she'd succumb to. But the Shelby's were no ordinary family. There were a number of people who'd want to hurt Mr. Shelby's family for leverage, but a creeping sense of knowing edged into Rain's mind.

Her breathing quickened once she raced into her room.

 _Empty._

She checked the bathroom.

 _Empty._

Once she turned toward the door, Polly rushed in. Rain couldn't control the pace of her breathing. Polly was saying something but she couldn't make it out.

His clothes were still on the floor.

Rain held a hand up to her head, searching around the room frantically. Finally her eyes landed on the sight upon the side table and her heart fell to the floor.

There sat a deck of playing cards. The same cards used in Crimson's casino.

 _"They were here."_


	33. Cellmate

Black.

There was nothing beyond this black room. At least that's the conclusion Michael came to. From the moment he woke up in this windowless cage, his mind began to make sense of this abduction. Even though he was beaten to exhaustion, he still managed to keep his thoughts grounded.

He sat up, or attempted to, while quietly grunting as his muscles began to fail him. The stone floor was cold against his bare skin, there was only a pile of fresh hay that helped his blood flow as he leaned upon it. He figured the men who tossed him here weren't known for their hospitality. Most of his clothes, aside from his trousers and thin undershirt were somehow taken from him. With the minimal light creeping through the distant cracks of a door's outline, Michael observed the bruises and dry blood along his arms. He didn't dare touch his forehead, no doubt it was bashed in a few times. It was throbbing from the moment he gained consciousness, and since then it continued to fog his vision, so much so that he did not realize there was another unfortunate man in the cell beside him.

Before Michael could address the old man who sat a few feet away from him, the door was violently thrashed ajar. In came a robust, masked man with two trays of food in his meaty hands. He strutted along the stone floor in shiny boots.

After adjusting his sight to the unnaturally bright illumination, Michael recognized the sheen of those American made boots. They flashed in and out of his clouded memory. This may have been the fucker who split open the skin above his eyebrow.

The man was masked with a black cloth displaying three openings, one for his mouth and the remaining two for his horrid discolored eyes. He acknowledged Michael with a filthy smirk, "I see you've woken up. About time." As expected, he had an American accent. He proceeded to slide the thin plate of scraps through the small opening of the cell door. Michael refused to look down upon his rations once the identity of his kidnapper was confirmed. He had a few theories, but Crimson was his first guess. It pained him to realize that he had been wrong about one thing when it came to Rain's apprehensions.

 _Rain._

It was the first time his thoughts drifted to her. Does she know he'd been taken? Is she in a different cell? How long had he been unconscious? Is this the man in the mask that plagued her dreams so often? Her dreams of torment and slicing?

If so..this is the first man Michael would dare to kill. _Bruno,_ he remembered her saying this name.

Michael suppressed his anger, but his breathing was still heavy. There was no chance of him killing anyone behind bars. And so, he watched as Bruno performed the same action for the old man in his neighboring cell. The metal plate flew across the opening. Bruno's purposefully strong force had the plate land face first on the piss stained floor, rendering the scraps inedible.

Bruno chuckled with delight before turning toward the door, as if it was his favorite part of the day. "Eat up, you fucking psychotic fucker," He spat. His earth-hindering footsteps echoed through the vast cellar.

In the light, Michael observed that there was more than two cells, but there were only two prisoners. Before the door was slammed shut, he spotted the old man leaning against the set of bars that divided their compartments. He looked as though he'd been living in that cell for years. The old man sported a grey wrinkly beard that was just as creased as the blotchy skin on his miserable face. The discoloration in his pale skin confirmed Michael's notion that he hadn't had the good fortune of stepping into the sunlight for a few lonely years. His frail body was wrapped in a poorly stitched sheet of cloth, it appeared as though the rats might've gotten to it on more than one occasion.

Once the door was locked and the light was minimal once more, Michael sat in the dark for one prolonged moment of silence. The old man, as sickly as he looked, did not make a sound. He didn't scramble for those scraps, nor did he acknowledge Michael's existence.

With a deep breath, Michael managed to lug his weight across the cold floor, up to where his rations sat. He couldn't help but indulge in one bite of his bread. It felt as though his stomach was deprived of any nourishment for more than a day, which meant it hadn't been long since waking up in that chamber.

After a less than satisfying meal, Michael peered to his right. The light from the door shined more clearly upon the old man, for his cell was directly across from it. He sat completely still, as though he was frozen in time. His aged, glassy eyes appeared to have been glued to a single stone upon the floor. They didn't travel elsewhere.

Michael let out a soft breath and shifted across his cell with his food. He winced with agitation before resting his body so that he faced the old man. Even then, the man refused to make any movement. His grey eyes, however, shifted ever so slightly as Michael slipped a fistful of scraps between the narrow bars.

"Go on," he sighed in a hoarse voice. Michael wondered how much he had yelled, cursed, and shouted before the fuckers knocked him unconscious in order for his voice to sound like that.

When the old man refused his offer, Michael reached through the bars with his free hand and wrenched the old man's hand from inside his cloth. In the process, his left hand ached with tension. Michael figured a few fingers were broken, for he limply held the old man's coarse hand. He let go once the food was transferred, relieving his knuckles of the pain that he unknowingly inflicted upon them. He'd broken these same fingers once before, during a fist fight. For a slight moment, it satisfied Michael to know that he had put up a fight before being tossed in here. If only he could remember how he was taken and when he arrived.

He pondered over the many places he could be in Birmingham or London, all while the man slowly began to lift a piece of bread up to his pale, cracked lips. He chewed slowly on a scrap, then put the rest back into the palm of his hand, perhaps to save it for later?

"What's your name?" Michael asked quietly. He didn't want another visit from Bruno, and he also didn't want to frighten the only person who could give him valuable information, no matter how small.

"Itsalup..." the old man whispered.

Michael grasped on to a bar with his right hand. "Sorry?" He leaned in closer. It was almost soundless in that black room, he didn't think hearing anything would be a problem.

"It's all up . . ." the old man quivered, "it's all up here." Michael leaned back as the horror in the old man's voice doubled over. He could hear the man thumping his hand over his bald head. "It's all up here," he rasped solemnly. His clouded eyes began to water as though he'd seen someone gutted before him.

"Can you tell me when I got here?" Michael emphasized once more.

"All up here," the old man repeated quietly, only to settle back into a frozen state of emptiness with the slightest rock of his body against his pile of hay.

Michael deflated, he wasn't going to get anything out of this mad old man. _How did he get to this state?_ Bruno must've cut him up more than he could handle. This made Michael sit back against the cold wall for support. If this was how Crimson handled his prisoners, then surely he was to encounter Bruno again, but not for a meal.

* * *

 _How could I have missed them?_

This was the question that pillaged through Rain's mind for the past two days. It was the question that traced over her consciousness as Polly raged on near the entrance of the office. The flustered woman paced back and forth as Mr. Shelby stood completely still near the door of Michael's empty office.

Rain sighed heavily as she sat motionless at her own desk, staring helplessly at the deck of cards Crimson's men had left behind as a token of intimidation. The sound of Mr. Shelby and Polly arguing sank her heart even further into that ocean of disappointment that crashed and roared within her. _How did I not feel a thing? How did I not wake up to the sound of Crimson's men?_ These same questions propelled through her as though they were running on a screen, and Rain was the only being in the entire cinema while Polly was the starring actress continuously shouting out these words without end.

A swift slamming sound brought Rain's attention back to the present. She looked up and to the left, taking her eyes off of the cards after what felt like ages. She strained her eyes at the sudden change of focus. It was only Mr. Shelby and Ada in the office now. Polly must've stormed off into a separate room. Somehow, it did not help Rain breathe any easier. She found herself sinking lower into her uncomfortable chair as Ada made her way down the office.

"She doesn't mean any of that, Rainy." Ada reassured her softly. "This is not your fault."

A soft scoff escaped Rain, "You don't have to make me feel better, Ada." Her focus went back to those cards.

"She's only worried for Michael, as we all are." Mr. Shelby began calmly, "She's lost him once before, this is hurting her more than it normally would. What Polly fails to see is that Michael can take care of himself just fine."

She faced Mr. Shelby. She yearned to feel as confident in Michael's safety as Mr. Shelby was. The moment Michael was deemed missing, Mr. Shelby began throwing out orders to his brothers and the Lee's and any other man he could find. All that without paying any mind to his postponed honeymoon. For the past two days he'd been gathering information and sending out more orders and money for Michael's whereabouts, all without a single sign of weakness. Grace didn't seem to mind that Mr. Shelby wasn't home. For some time, she'd give Rain company even when she did not wish to speak. What they didn't understand was that she felt as though this was entirely her fault.

"What makes you sure he's alive?" Rain questioned, unable to say _dead._

"Sound's like you don't know Michael as well as I thought you did, Rain." Mr. Shelby softly jested.

Rain speculated whether this was his way of reassuring her that Michael was all right. Either way, she wished for nothing more than to be alone with her thoughts, or to simply help look for Michael. However, Mr. Shelby forbade her from the leaving the office the moment they got back to the office. She wasn't quite sure why, but once Isiah came bursting through the office doors with a note, a jolt of life raced back into Rain's heart after hours of self-loathing.

She was on her feet in seconds, treading toward Ada and Mr. Shelby. The sound of Polly's heeled shoes silently making their way down the hall was present, though she refrained from making her way to Isiah, most likely because Rain was in close proximity. She'd been avoiding Rain's existence since the morning of Michael's disappearance. Rain didn't mind, in fact, she welcomed the spew of curses and aggressive verbal torment that Polly spat out every now and then. Perhaps it was comforting to hear her own thoughts being spoken aloud. It helped the numbness subside into some sort of emotion.

"What is it, Isiah?" Mr. Shelby took the note from his calloused hands.

Isiah glanced at Rain, and that look of disdain only furthered the heartache she wished to ignore. It was not good news that he was meant to deliver. "From one of Crimson's men." Isiah said solemnly. "He's outside. Hasn't left yet."

Rain caught his eyes. Her heart began to beat to life as Ada clenched her right hand with a fierce grip. They watched impatiently as Mr. Shelby raced his eyes across the short note.

"What's it say?" Polly stepped forward, eyes as dark and hungry as ever as she reached for the note. Mr. Shelby let it go without a fight.

"Keep an eye on the man." Mr. Shelby ordered Isiah.

Her dear friend nodded in her direction before leaving the room without a sound. Rain couldn't remember the last time Isiah had been so inexpressive. Something was not right.

Polly held the note as if it were Michael himself. She was broken by this as much as Rain was, she knew this, but Rain could not match the heartache with that of a mother. And so, she waited until Polly's line of sight strayed away from the words of that note. Ada then let go of Rain's hand and took hold of the slip of paper before she read it out loud.

"Send the girl and you'll get the boy."

There was a moment of stillness that itched at Rain's impatience as Ada withheld the note from her. However, she managed to grab hold of the note, she read it over and over. She read it until those eight words were the only words in the world that meant anything to her. And when Rain crumpled the paper in her fist, she spoke without a hint of doubt or fear.

"I'll go."

Without hesitation, Ada scoffed. "Are you daft?"

"We must think about this, Rain." Mr. Shelby noted with a hint of strain in his rough voice. "Rule out any unwanted outcomes."

Rain caught Polly's eyes. Those dark eyes held nothing but disbelief, and yet she didn't protest. It did nothing to further Rain's fear or influence her decision. This was the first time Polly failed to deliver a snide remark to one of her decisions. So Rain was confident she was right.

She didn't wait for Mr. Shelby to establish an order, nor did she look back once she crossed them and headed toward the office's exit. Their voices didn't fail to erupt, even when she was outside in the dark, cool air. Isiah was standing just outside the door leering at a stout man that stood across from them in the middle of the empty road. It was barren, all but the one black car he was leaning against.

She stormed past Isiah and in the direction of the plump man and his car. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her trousers when he called out for her.

"Where are you going?" he protested.

Rain stopped a few feet away from Crimson's man. "Ready the car, I'm going with you," she announced collectedly in a voice more stable than she had hoped for. She felt close, so close to Michael already. For days there was a gnawing nuisance clawing at her insides. _This is all your fault_ , it whispered, but she was more than ready to rewrite this story's end.

As the man hauled himself off the car, he climbed into the dark vehicle in a discrete manner. Before Rain went any closer, she felt a rough hand wrench up the collar of her shirt and pull her body away from it.

"What in the fuck do you think you're doing?" Isiah held her by the shoulders and glared frighteningly in her eyes. "Have you gone mental? Do you really think we'd let you leave just like that? No discussion?"

"It's been two days, _Isiah_." Rain strained. The first sign of emotion leaked from her eyes as Isiah restrained her. She released any fight from within. " _You know_ there's no other way we're going to find him."

"Yeah? And what about you?" He shook her, as if trying to mesh some sense into her. "What happens to you? God! Rain!? I didn't take you for a fucking idiot! Did you lose your head?!"

"Please, Isiah!" Rain begged him as she pushed his hands off her body. "We have to try."

"How do we even know he'll let him go?" Ada called from the steps of the office. Mr. Shelby made his way down, while Polly held her hands over her niece's unsteady frame. Rain couldn't bare to look into Ada's drowning eyes. She could tell Ada was fighting to appear strong, but there was nothing she could do to convince Rain to stay.

Mr. Shelby paced over to Rain, but she intervened before he could say anything. "You can't make me stay." Rain stepped away from both him and Isiah, closer to the running car. The cold air began to pick at her skin and speaking boldly was beginning to get harder with every second she was exposed to it. Her fingertips felt like ice, and the unsteady breaths she released were visible for them all to see, revealing how this whole shit of a mess was eating away her strength.

"This is the only lead we've picked up these past few days. Don't tell me this isn't what you've been waiting for, Mr. Shelby. There's a reason you've kept me locked up here while your men went looking. This was always the plan, wasn't it? You knew what Crimson would ask for." The fight in the dark man's eyes were subdued by Rain's remark. She stepped backwards and reached one hand for the cool handle of the car door. "I'm sorry," she muttered desperately at Isiah. There weren't many times Rain was compelled to apologize, but they were the toughest words to conjure.

He refused to meet her eyes. In that instance, Rain wished that he had. It wasn't written in stone, but as he glued his eyes onto the concrete beneath his boiling frame, she felt as though this was the last time she'd see her friend.

"Polly," Rain exclaimed with the last bit of stability she had left in her voice, "I'll bring him back. I promise." Without another glance at Ada, Rain pulled open the door of Crimson's car and climbed in. Not an ounce of regret filled her lungs.

She was ready.

* * *

After another day of scraps, Michael was beginning to regret his offerings to the old man in the cell beside him. Each time they were given a meal, Bruno never failed to slam the old man's rations onto the putrid floor. And after each delivery, Michael left a portion of his rations for the old man. He figured the "royal" treatment meant Crimson wasn't to harm him, for this time _he_ was being used as leverage, not Rain.

A sigh escaped him as he handed the old man their dinner or breakfast? Time was starting to play with Michael's mind. It didn't help that the old man kept muttering "it's all up here" and pounding his head with the palm of his hand. He'd chant it, as if it were a prayer or a plea. Nevertheless, Michael powered on. He knew he was bound to leave this cell . . . sooner or later.

Crimson's only desire was to have those bloody African diamonds. The diamonds that William Cassin hid so well before his untimely death that even his own daughter couldn't figure out the location of its whereabouts. Rain wasn't the type to negotiate with people who'd dare to hurt her loved ones. Crimson knew this. This was the only reason Michael was still breathing.

"Rain . . ." Michael exhaled, releasing the tension in his shoulders against the cool wall. She must've been rampaging through all of Birmingham by now if Tommy didn't have a hold on her.

In all its glory, the old man somehow managed to stop his chanting. Michael strained his muscles in order to get a glimpse of him. For the first time in, God knows how long, he had turned his attention away from the cold, wet floor and bore his faded eyes at Michael. Those grey eyes appeared frustratingly familiar yet foreign in the same instance.

"Rain, Rain . . . " the old man wheezed. "Don't go away."

 _It couldn't be, and yet it made sense._

He began to shift in his cell, but the door was sprung wide open and a flood of light flashed inside the dark cell. Michael stopped in his tracks as a white suited man ambled through the door and over to his cell with a black nightstick in his hand. The familiar scent of cigar smoke plagued his presence. It filled Michael's lungs the moment he stepped inside with Bruno's stout image close behind. Crimson smiled, showcasing a string of gold teeth. He slipped a nightstick through the bars so that it was pointing directly at Michael.

"My, it appears as though you've managed to shut him up!" Crimson cheered patronizingly. His true accent raged through Michael's ears. "How do you like the room, by the way? Billy here won't bother to throw out his opinions and Bruno doesn't care too much for my designs. He's more of a physical presence, don't you think?"

Michael remained still against the wall. He forced his muscles to relax, to show no sign of fatigue, no sign of weakness. His breathing was at ease, which was a miracle considering how inclined he was to pummel Crimson's conniving grin against those metal bars until his gold teeth were covered in dark red.

After the awkward silence commenced, Crimson's grin was suddenly erased and he leaned his shining white suit against the bars to Michael's cell. "You don't seem like you talk much," he observed, "Don't worry, Billy here was once like you, and now he can't seem to quit talking when spoken to. Isn't that right, Billy?" he called over to the old man.

As discretely as he could manage, Michael turned his focus to the old man. He was suddenly huddled on the furthest corner of his cell, wrapped completely in his tattered cloth. Underneath it, he was trembling violently and muttering something silently to himself. Crimson scrapped his American made boots along the wet floor as he walked over to the old man's cell. A this, his trembling grew far worse.

"I said, ISN'T THAT RIGHT, BILLY!?" Crimson growled, slamming the nightstick against the cell bars.

The ricocheting effect caused a ruckus so vexing that the old man began to whimper in fear. "It's all up here!" He sobbed, covering his ears with his fists. It didn't help that Crimson wouldn't stop. He taunted the old man and laughed as he beat the bars with nightstick over and over.

Michael couldn't stand the torment any longer. Negligent of his current condition, he managed to get on his knees. "Stop!" He roared. "Just leave him! What more do you want from him!?" Michael protested. He clung to the bars that divided their cells knowing it was a bad idea to intervene. The old man was no longer a threat, thinking about his relevance only hurt his head into a foggy state.

Crimson stopped his game. He stopped his game, focusing only on Michael's uneven breaths. "Open his cell, Bruno."

Michael closed his eyes against the cool bars he grasped on to and pulled until he was on his feet. The sound of chains and keys rattled the still cellar. The old man's crying dissipated shortly after Crimson stepped into Michael's cell. He took in a deep breath and fell against the cool wall to stabilize his stance. He watched as Crimson held out his nightstick as though it were an extension of his arm.

"You're a smart boy." Crimson mentioned before halting a few feet from Michael's bruised and battered figure. "Why else would Rain take interest in a Shelby?"

"Rain," the old man sobbed quietly to himself. "Don't go away, Rain . . ."

Crimson reached the nightstick up to Michael's forehead. He held it there without force, it was an empty threat. So Michael suppressed any further defense.

"Maybe that's why I didn't notice it the first time we met." Crimson pondered, "You don't act like those fucking bolts. No," he scoffed. "You actually use that brain of yours." He pressed the nightstick against a deep gash on Michael's head, sending stars to form in that dimly lit cellar, but Michael forced his cries inside as his breathing paced faster than normal.

"So stop wasting my time and use what's left of it, Michael." Crimson released his force, but the nightstick remained at eye level. "You know what I want." He stepped forward so that he stood directly before Michael. His voice was a raging whisper. "Your family took _everything_ from me . . . No worries, old sport. I'll gladly let you go. Bygones will be what they are, and you'll be back in the arms of that gypsy whore . . . But that doesn't mean we won't have a little fun before you go."

At the start of Crimson's bloody threat, Michael's blood had been boiling. He kept his temper at bay, but nothing would have pleased him more than to shove Crimson's body into a pit of bloodthirsty lions. And so, he made the next best decision and rammed his fist against Crimson's jaw with all the force he had left.

There was not a single thought roaming his mind as he thrashed Crimson onto the wet floor, soiling his pristine suit. He kicked him once more on his back before his legs failed him. Though his energy was used up by this attack, Michael couldn't have picked a better opportunity to use it for.

To his surprise, Crimson didn't cry out in pain. He was _laughing_. He laughed as Bruno surged into the cell and thrust Michael back against the cold wall by his throat. He rasped for air and struggled to get out of Bruno's grip. While fighting to remain composed, Michael couldn't help but grow confused by Crimson's reaction. He seemed more unstable than the old man. Michael watched as Crimson picked himself up one limb at a time. There was blood staining his gold teeth, nothing could have satisfied Michael any more than that image. Perhaps some air to his lungs would've helped him focus more clearly on what Crimson was saying as he brushed off the dirt on his stained coat.

"There's the Shelby blood that never fails to disappoint." Crimson spat out in one last laugh. He adjusted the gold rings on his fingers, and then his suit. "Why don't you clean him up a bit, Bruno, before our princess arrives."

As Crimson closed the cell door behind him, Bruno let Michael fall onto the floor gasping for his lungs to relieve themselves. It was more difficult to perform as a heavy boot struck him in the abdomen. The door to the cellar was closed shut and there was nothing but black once more.


	34. Unfortunate Soul

If there were ever a contraption that could calculate the level of ferocity that was boiling within a person's conscious mind, it would be at its highest level if said device were used on Rain Cassin.

The grey-eyed girl managed to sit silently in the back of the black car as the expressionless man drove her out of Birmingham. For twenty minutes she sat silently, hands shoved in her pockets, eyes on the dark scenery that whizzed past her vision. When they stopped, Rain climbed out of the car and found herself before an abandoned warehouse. Two men stood in front of the rusty entrance under what seemed like the only source of light in the dark night. She didn't fight or bicker as they led her inside with both arms restrained. While being carried away, Rain noticed a number of men who stood armed in the bleak hallways. It seemed as though there were less men under Crimson's control than before the heist.

It wasn't until the two men thew her into a black room when Rain's frustration got the best of her. They shut the door behind her, rendering her trapped. Instantaneously, the girl jumped back to slam the wooden door with all her might repeatedly. "Fuck!" she spat, feeling at loss for any threats. Rain slammed her body once more onto the door in defeat.

This _was_ the deal. What more did she expect?

In the pitch black room, a cough was emitted into the silence. An echo of shoe scraping followed as Rain swiftly turned to face the source of that sound. She studied the silence and squinted her eyes in the darkness. There was little light coming from the outline of the door, Rain managed to adjust her sight, and found there were metal bars across from her. After a moment of careful observation, it became apparent that there was a body on the floor of the first cell. A man! He was shifting in his position upon the wet, dirty stone floor.

"Michael!" Rain breathed in relief. She raced over to the bars and kneeled so that she could reach out and grasp on to his broken body. There was blood seeping through his white undershirt. His back was facing her, but she was positive it was him by the way he muttered in his sleep. "Michael," she urged him to wake up. "It's me, Rain!" she frantically spoke, as though seeing him were some sort of miracle. Hearing him gasp awake was like a gift from God for he was most certainly alive.

He pushed himself off the floor as if alarmed by her touch. Michael hauled himself away from the bars. The sight of his frightened figure broke Rain's heart into two. He looked at her, he faced her and she was suddenly breathing abnormally. Her chest heaved unsteadily as Michael's completely stilled. The minimal light gleamed off his green eyes. She could see the cuts on his face with patterns so eerily familiar.

"It's Rain, Michael." she reached through the bars with a heavy heart.

His breathing was normal after a moment. Michael squinted in the light, as though testing if Rain were real or not. He crawled forward, back to the bars. Rain smiled, letting out a breath of relief, unaware of the tears that fell from her eyes. "It's me," she affirmed in the sweetest voice she could render.

The girl waited until the boy was directly before her. She waited until he was looking directly at her, until his familiar scent reached her senses. She touched him through the bars only when he said her name as though she were his savior.

"Rain," Michael spoke softly, "You're all right?"

Though she was aching to let words escape her, Rain found herself laughing at the first thing he managed to say in that dry voice. "I was so afraid you were . . ."

Rain shook as Michael reached for her arms through the bars. He leaned forward, far enough so his arms could fully encapsulate her body. He held her, smelling her hair until her shaking came to a stop. Holding her felt like the only real thing he could process in those days of darkness.

Suddenly the door was flung open. The light from the hallway that felt so dim before was now a beacon of energy, spreading all across the cellar. Rain's reaction wasn't as strong as Michael's. He shuddered away, shielding his eyes from the light. However, Rain could see everything. She saw what horrid place he'd been thrown in to rot for those few days. She also spotted a silent old man in the cell beside him. Before she could have another thought about this prison, in stepped the white suited maniac that caused nothing but chaos in Rain's life.

"How picturesque." Crimson muttered in false adoration. "I live for reunions."

That prior anger that infested Rain's mind made its second appearance and it was raging at the sight of Jack Bowery Crimson. She stood up on her feet as he ambled forward, cigar in hand. In a dash, Rain reached into her boot and pulled out a small knife. Polly's knife. She held out her arm before he could step any closer.

To her surprise, Crimson stopped in his tracks. "Seriously?" he sighed. In that moment he reached into his own suit and pulled out a pistol before aiming it to the ceiling. The sound of gunshots led Rain to fall onto her knees. She felt Michael's arms through the bars, bracing for the bullets to hit her, but after three shots she failed to feel anything.

Once the firing stopped, the only sound came from the old man in the other cell. He was muttering uncontrollably about something "up here". His trembling caused Rain to open her eyes. She found Michael peering at her with the same confusion as they unbound their arms from each other's bodies.

"Did no one bother to frisk the girl before sending her in?!" Crimson expressed with annoyance, holding the gun up to his forehead as if it were going to relieve him of such frustration.

Shortly after the firing, in came Bruno. The stout man's appearance didn't fail to shake up Rain's fear. She felt Michael take her hand. Without asking, she knew he might've endured the same form of torture under Crimson's imprisonment.

"Open the fucking cell." Crimson ordered the masked man as he continued to smoke his cigar with impatience. "Waste of my fucking time, honestly. You!" Crimson pointed his pistol at Rain. "Over there!" he demanded.

She scurried over to the left, out of Bruno's way as he stomped over to Michael's cell. As he was fidgeting with the locks, Rain stole a glance at Crimson. He was acting rather odd. Not as collected or intimidating as he once appeared, but just as much authority. He sniffed once before taking a long drag of his dying cigar.

Snow.

It had to have been. Otherwise, why would he appear so hyper? The stress of his dying empire. It was all clicking in her thoughts as she took note of his impatient behavior. The way he threw the cigar into the old man's cell, it was childlike.

The sound of an opening cell door brought Rain's attention back to Michael. Bruno pulled the bars away from Michael's cell. He stood dumbfounded. Bruised, battered, and confused by Crimson's motives.

"Come on, then," Crimson waved the gun without caution.

Rain raised a brow, uncertain of what Crimson intended to do. No matter how badly she wished to race into Michael' arms, this was all too easy. She looked into Michael's skeptic eyes as he limped forward on his bare feet. He grasped on to the opening of his cell, using it as a crutch to walk through.

"Go on and help the poor boy," Crimson insisted.

Without another second to spare, Rain raced across the cellar and grasped onto Michael before he lost control of his footing. His breathing was strained, but he fought to keep his ground as he held an arm around her shoulder. Rain could feel his racing heart as she held onto him with all her strength. She didn't know what would happen next, but knowing that Michael was alive and breathing and as warm as the night she had last seen him was more than enough to keep her sane.

"Heartwarming," Crimson sighed. His crooked smile departed as swiftly as it arrived. "Take him away, Bruno."

"What?" Rain spat out in disbelief as the meaty man ripped Michael away from her arms.

Michael fought his way to block Bruno's actions, but Rain knew they wouldn't be able to escape what was to come. One moment her arms were around Michael, and in the next she was easing away as Crimson aimed his gun directly at her head. Michael instantly stopped struggling.

"Don't worry, baby doll, you'll join him shortly." Crimson reassured, "I just wanted to get a few things straight before you go running back home to Mr. Tommy Shelby."

Though her footing was steady, Rain's breathing was not. Michael shoved Bruno's brawny hand off of his shoulders. His eyes held all the rage in the world as he unwillingly stumbled under the strain of his weak muscles. He gave Rain one last look of certainty before limping toward the door. Rain endearingly nodded off his departure.

"I hope you had a wonderful time, Michael," Crimson called out, even though Michael was already halfway through the door. "Meeting the father of the woman you fancy is often nerve wrecking."

* * *

Father?

It couldn't possibly be true. Not after so many years. Not after so many aching moments of abandonment and loneliness did Rain ever think this to be a possible outcome.

The door to the cellar was ajar. The light was shining in to reveal the only other occupied cell.

 _The old man._

The old man she so blatantly overlooked. How could she have not recognized the only person she dreamt about every single night of her childhood?

"Rain?" a coarse whisper emitted from the shadowy corner of the cell. "My Rain knows it all."

There was a jarring sensation that weaved its way through Rain's limbs as she dropped to her knees before the bars of that cell. She didn't care if Crimson shot her for moving. Her fingertips and toes were numb with a rush of blood that multiplied with each second of silence that followed. From a distance, the bearded man appeared ghostly. He limped into the light, peering at Rain with a lethargic expression.

"My Rain . . . has it all up here." He exhaled with a smile. He said it as though his prayers were answered.

His voice . . . it was altered yet reminiscent of the man she once knew. It was torn and shredded as though his lungs were ripped in half. How could this have happened? What could possibly have wrenched a soulful, happy man into a sorrowful, broken one? Imagining the horrors he must've endured sent silent tears to run down Rain's cheeks. Her breathing hitched as she held back a sob. The girl's weight gave in as her father crawled his way to the bars.

"Papa . . ." she uttered through tears. She didn't dare look up. She could no longer bare the sight of her battered father. For a moment she wished he _was_ dead. It would've been easier to endure if he had been. There in that cellar, a girl's entire world fell apart within seconds.

He reached his hand through the bars. William wiped away the tears that didn't seem to stop. At first Rain winced slightly at his touch, but her exhaustion gave way. There was no reason to hold up this barrier for her emotions. Her quiet cries weren't a matter to focus on. Every moment of distress she suppressed over the course of four years was no longer restrained.

"She has it all up here." he repeated in whispers.

Rain choked on her tears once she felt his chaffed finger tap her on her forehead.

". . . she has them all."

 _Them?_

The girl shot her eyes wide open. _Them?_

She leaned forward through the bars, grabbing her father's trembling hands. "I have them all, papa?" she questioned desperately. Rain couldn't help but sob knowing what he had implied.

"Up here." William nodded, tapping her forehead once more.

"BRUNO!" Crimson growled with impatience.

Rain could feel those storming footsteps. Her time was running out. Her own limbs began to shake as her father's trembling grew violent with each vibration. Her heart . . . she was panicking.

"I'm going to get you out, papa!" Rain ensured him, squeezing his hand. "I promise!"

He looked so afraid, so desperate to hide. It was enough to break her spirit all over again. When she felt Bruno behind her, he was quick to scurry into his corner. His hands left hers. Rain didn't fight off Bruno. She felt as though all the happiness inside her was drained out within the last few minutes.

Crimson stepped out of the cellar and into the fully lit hallway before Bruno ushered her out. He flashed a golden grin and ordered Bruno to escort her out. The next moment was almost impossible for Rain to comprehend. Gradients of light passed through her vision as she was shoved through hallways. She felt lifeless even as she was thrown out into the streets by Bruno's rough hands.

Raindrops began to pour down on her as she braced the fall upon the wet stone. The impact was nothing compared to what Rain had endured not even a moment ago. She felt her forehead scrape against the concrete. It took her a moment to realize she was no longer in Crimson's establishment.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and didn't bother to fight it off. The girl looked up and found Michael. He was drenched in rainwater, yet he didn't fail to help her up. She couldn't find the strength to speak, but she got on her feet. The pair looked back to the opened door where Crimson stood with his gun aimed in their direction.

"I'm no longer playing games with you, Miss. Cassin." he exclaimed. "I gave you back your play thing. . . I want those diamonds within the next two hours or I'll be forced to use my new gun on our oldest guest. Think of this as your last warning."

The last thing Rain saw before he closed the entrance doors was that crooked, gold grin. As she stood in the growing storm, Michael grasped on to her hand.

"We have to get to Tommy." he urged her lifeless figure. "Rain! We need to-"

"I know where the diamonds are."


	35. It's All Up Here

_Note: Thank you guys for such kind words :) Hope you like what's to come -Fia)_

She held her father's cap in her hands.

Perhaps it was the trauma of discovering the truth of her father's fate that held Rain in such a tight stance. She certainly wasn't fully present in the office as Ada greeted her with relief followed by a short harangue. However, as Rain drifted away from her friend without a word, more heads spun her way.

Michael was inundated with questions and cries from both Polly and Mr. Shelby. Fin took notion of Rain's disturbed presence once they limped through the doors of the office. He silently let her pass without question by letting Michael lean against his shoulders.

Rain headed straight past those looks of confusion with water dripping from her drenched hair and clothes. She eyed the clock upon the wall. It took exactly half an hour to get home after hitching a ride back into Birmingham. The ride was spent in silence. Rain was counting the minutes that passed as Michael dozed off beside her. He didn't bother to speak to her. He knew what she needed, and that was to get her father back before she could set her emotions free.

The cap was on her desk, right where she left it. Though time was restricted, Rain found herself frozen with doubt once it was in her possession. Months ago, she thought she had lost that hat after escaping a filthy alley on the run from two Blinders. One of them returned it to her and even persuaded his boss to offer a stranger a well paying job. Granted, it did land her in some trouble with an American gangster . . . but those dark moments led her right back to the beginning. To her father.

 _It's all up here_ , he said.

Her father never left their small cottage without that hat. She didn't question why he had left it behind the day he failed to come home . . . but how could he have predicted that Rain would take it with her?

 _Rain has it all_ , he said, _all up here_.

With his cap in her hands, Rain spaced into her thoughts longer than she had hoped. The grey-eyed girl flinched at an unexpected sign of contact. She held the hat against her chest after backing away a few paces. To her relief, it was only Ada.

"Rain?" she questioned softly. "Is it true? Is your father alive?"

Rain adjusted her conscious mind to reality. Polly, Ada, Michael, Mr. Shelby, and Fin. All eyes were on her. She loosened her grip on the hat, realizing she had been clutching it as if it were her most prized possession. She cleared her throat and held the hat out to Ada.

"The diamonds, they should all be in here." her voice was dry and hard. She urged Ada to take the damn hat, but her friend only bore her blue eyes with confusion.

Rain shook her head and grabbed the knife from her boot. Impatiently, she placed the hat on her desk and wrenched the blade across the lining of the inside. A small part of her faltered, but she pushed her strength through that hesitation after the first cut into the thin layer of cotton.

The others in the office remained silent in her inexplicable endeavor. Once it was all torn and tattered, Rain dropped her knife and reached her slim fingers through the cotton within and instantaneously felt small studs hiding within.

One by one, without any excitement, she pulled out diamond after diamond. They were as small as the nail on her pink finger. Each discovery was slammed onto her desk. In total there were eight. Eight diamonds that ruined her father's life, ruined her youth, ruined her innocence.

Rain piled them all into her trembling hand. She never once thought these would actually surface into existence, let alone be in her possession. She hated the feeling of them in her hand, so she crossed the room over to Mr. Shelby. He appeared stoic even as she reached for his hand and placed the diamonds in his palm.

"We have to get back to Crimson or he'll shoot him." Rain steadily voiced. "He let us go, knowing I'd have a reason to come back."

Mr. Shelby held out the diamonds in his hand and cleared his throat. "I'll have a party sent out immediately-"

"-No," Rain interjected coolly, to Polly's surprise. "I'm going with you. We constructed this plan together, and my terms will be met." She felt Polly's dark eyes sear deep into her skin.

"Is that what you truly want, Rain?" The dark man asked with caution. "The plan will be in motion, nowhere in its strategy does it require your presence."

"I appreciate your concern, Mr. Shelby," Rain strained, "but I've made up my mind."

She was going to kill Crimson, and she was going to drag it on until his white suit was covered in red.

* * *

Although Michael was fighting through his lethargy, he carried on beside Rain once he was clothed and had eaten enough to send the headaches away. She sat in his dark office, not upon one of his chairs, but on the floor beside one of his bookshelves. Rain was smoking a cigarette with her knees pulled close to her chest. While Tommy's men were called in through multiple phones, more and more people came bursting through the doors. They were audibly growing fired up for the brawl that was to come. The only quiet corner in that office was where Rain sat, near a dying candle.

Rain failed to look at him once he closed the door behind him. There was less noise draining in, but the silence only furthered his concern. She was unnaturally quiet and stiff. It was uncanny to see her this way.

Michael carefully walked over to shelf behind his desk, to this strange girl he once knew to be bold. Now she was shaken, disturbed. His Rain was in there, but _this_ girl was someone he'd seen before.

When Rain first came out of prison, she was just as disoriented. Michael promised himself that he'd never let anything morph and twist Rain into that person ever again. And yet, here she was sitting upon his unswept floor as though her world was slowly falling to pieces.

"We're going to get him out," Michael reassured her softly from where he stood. A stranger's eyes couldn't catch the horrors racing through her very thoughts, but Michael saw it all.

He came around the candle at her feet and slid down the wall to sit beside her. Rain was to the right of him and her eyes didn't leave the candle upon the floor. It wasn't odd for Rain to watch a flame dance till its death when things weren't right . . . when she felt as though her nightmares ceased to exist within her mind and have escaped into reality.

After a long drag of her cigarette, Rain blew out a shaky breath. "Are we leaving soon?" she asked anxiously. Her voice was a soft as the wind blowing outside the open window, yet as cold as the air that blew in with it.

Michael took hold of Rain's free hand, "In a few moments we'll all be ready," he informed her, not as though he were explaining a plan but as though these steps taken were leading them closer to relief. "Tommy has the Lees in position near the warehouse. No lights or cars beyond the kilometer mark as instructed. He's informed the police already . . . we're going to get him back, Rain."

He felt her thumb run along his knuckles. She held onto him as though she were ready to collapse. A thin layer of gloss coated her grey eyes from what he could see. Those eyes that once were filled with joy, only a few nights ago when Michael said he loved her. How he wished they weren't so vacant.

"Ada?" she inquired.

"She has every reason to be worried about you going, Rain."

"And you?"

After a prolonged silence, Rain leaned sideways so as to rest her head against Michael's shoulder. She left the end of her cigarette upon the candleholder. He held her there silently, waiting patiently until she'd elaborate. Mostly because he didn't wish to share his true feelings about her intentions on killing Jack Bowery Crimson.

After what Polly had said, her warning, he couldn't help but question Rain's motives. He couldn't help but assume that Rain would . . . no longer be _Rain_ after handling Crimson. What he did to her, what he did to her father, she certainly had the potential to unlock something dark, something that was itching at Michael's own past, something . . . one could not come back from.

He felt the warmth of her unsteady breaths, her strained muscles that held his hand. Rain's light, the fire inside her was what he loved most about her. Michael knew revenge was all she wanted, but unknowingly, he was _afraid_ this would lead him to lose the one person he came to love more than his own life.

"I feel so selfish." she whispered into the quiet room.

"Why do you say that?" he scoffed gently.

"We've been home for an hour, and I've yet to ask you how you're feeling."

Michael felt a warm tear trail down the sleeve of his shirt. Her voice was steady, but she was beginning to lose that numb exterior she constantly put up in place of her true emotions.

"Knowing what they could've done to you, to him-" her breath hitched subtly, "Why are you still willing to come out and fight when you're so obviously in pain? Why . . ." Rain trailed off as she choked down a sob, "And I find myself tired of asking 'why'. Why the fuck is this all happening?"

There was never a moment in which Michael felt Rain's actions were anything close to selfishness. Was she reckless for leaving with one of Crimson's men? Of course, but seeing her in that cell after days of endless darkness was the only thing that revived him of such pain. Holding her in his arms was the only feeling he yearned for while wasting away in that sordid cell.

She ceased her crying, but Rain shook against his chest. Michael wrapped his arms around her, coaxing her into a steady breath.

"This will all be over soon." he lifted her chin up, forcing her to look at him in what little light they had remaining. "Listen to me," he said sternly. "What we're doing tonight is what this business runs on. Look at me, Rain." Michael waited patiently until her focus was on him, "What Tommy's doing, what I'm doing . . . we fight. Whether its for respect, money, or family; we fight. We fight using our fists, guns, or words. It's all the same. I knew what shit came with the job before I took it. None of this was your fault. All right? It's all a small price we pay."

With a huff, Rain rested her forehead against Michael's. "It's a bit fucked up isn't it?" she exhaled in a stuffy voice.

A sigh of relief escaped Michael. There was still some of his Rain shining through. "I don't make the rules, sweetheart."

With such minimal light, Michael didn't catch Rain lean forward for a kiss. He was taken by surprise by those tearstained lips, those familiar lips he had not realized how much he missed until they touched his own. An ache within him ceased once Rain breathed him in.

She let go all too soon, with him yearning for more. Her eyes remained closed as she spoke inches away from his longing lips. "I think they're departing."

Michael exhaled a strained breath. There were more bodies leaving the office and more cars running outside. Which meant there was only half an hour left to reach the warehouse. Half an hour for Michael to hold on to Rain before she would make a life changing decision.

"Time to go."


	36. First Kill

Is it strange that most people resort to murder if an inconceivable conflict were to arise? There were moments when Rain had the utmost desire to watch someone slowly lose their soul by some mysterious third party. Not once did she imagine killing someone with her own two hands.

It was the only thing she wanted dearly when Crimson came into view.

The Shelby party arrived at Jack Bowery's Birmingham warehouse. It was perfect. Almost too easy for Rain to comprehend. She stepped out of Mr. Shelby's car and into the rain. It felt eerie to be out on the lot when she was thrown there only a few hours ago. Rain wrapped her overcoat tighter around her frame as the cool air toyed with her fatigued mind.

Her thoughts were a conflicting battle between rest and revenge. Her body ached while waiting in the car, but once her eyes rested upon Crimson's drenched figure, she was everything _but_ tired. She was restless, starving to execute this plan.

Michael stepped out of the black car after her. He took hold of her hand before she walked off with Mr. Shelby. "I'll be right here," he ensured her solemnly, "should you need any assistance."

"You always are." Rain gripped his hand firmly, before finally letting go.

She followed carefully behind Mr. Shelby. He stormed over each puddle through the pouring rain, oblivious to how heavily it weighed down his overcoat.

Unlike Mr. Shelby and Michael, Rain's hair was exposed to the weather. It clung to her black locks, pasting itself to her pale face. She kept her breathing calm as she walked silently across the empty clearing. A few rundown buildings surrounded Crimson's estate, but it was off the grid entirely. A ghost town. The only sound present were the raindrops against concrete and the footsteps leading up to the towering warehouse. She could spot the windowless openings on the second story above the unfinished terrace. Her car headlights were bright enough to illuminate most of the clearing. Not a single man guarded his building. Either that or they were really good at hiding.

Outside the metal doors stood Crimson, white suit and all.

He was without weapons. Bruno stood beside him with a pistol clearly displayed at his waist and one hand holding an umbrella over Crimson's figure. The giant man's mask was drenched, meaning his shots may result in misfires if he were to use his arms. Rain had never seen a design like Bruno's before, it could've easily been a water-resistant gun. Rain abruptly stopped her footing a few paces behind Mr. Shelby. She couldn't help but speculate whether Crimson had a pistol hidden somewhere on him.

There was a prolonged silence between the two parties. Mr. Shelby stood almost ten meters away from where Crimson stood. The white-suited man looked rather . . . thrilled to have company.

"Right on time, Miss. Cassin." Crimson began, "Here I was thinking Bruno would have a chance to practice his shooting."

"No guns." Mr. Shelby stated with disinterest.

Crimson seemed taken aback by Mr. Shelby's lack of enthusiasm. "I beg your pardon?"

"The deal was no guns and no men," he continued. "You don't seem to be a man of your word, Mr. Crimson. Not a very good first impression, I reckon."

Rain swiftly glanced behind her. Michael stood not too far behind, next to her running car where the headlights masked most of his features with a haloing effect. He appeared at ease, but she detected his fatigue running high. The icy rain wasn't a benefactor for his health, nor was it keeping Rain's rage at bay. She half expected herself to run up to Crimson and slice his throat open with her knife before the deal would take place.

 _No._

She had to resist. Too much depended on her cooperation.

Rain decided to focus on their surroundings, to catch any sign of movement while the two exchanged verbal blows.

"I believe you make outrageous first impressions, yourself, Mr. Thomas Shelby." Crimson mused. "Otherwise we wouldn't be here right now. It seems as though you've forgotten who broke the first term . . . taking away your boy was more so a- _penalty_ than a punishment." he flashed those golden caps.

"And William?" Mr. Shelby inquired with a subtle nod. "Where is he? How do we know you're not harboring a corpse inside?"

Rain's stomach churned at the sound of this exchange. She turned her attention back to Crimson. He'd been looking straight at her.

"So now you've got another man making deals for you, Rainy?" He instigated. "How did that work the first few times?" His wild eyes peered beyond her figure, to Michael. "I see you've even brought along-,"

"-Do you want the fucking diamonds or not?" she intervened with impatience. Rain hated the sound of her name as he hurled it through his gold teeth. His grating voice tormented her every last nerve. She was only moments away from combusting.

Crimson didn't frown nor did he place any threats. Instead, he whistled through his gold teeth. It was a loud and distinct sound that could've traveled miles if not for the crack of lightning that followed. Shortly after, the metal doors to his warehouse burst open.

Two of Crimson's men held a small figure in their arms. His head was covered with a sack. The old man's body was clothed in tattered cloths and his feet bore no shoes, but they were bound by rough ropes. He was dragged along the wet concrete until he was carelessly dropped beside the man who summoned his presence. Rain could audibly hear the pain emitting from her father as he was hauled out and thrown violently onto the cold ground. She winced slightly, but managed to hold her composer, even as his face was uncovered.

The girl's breathing hitched in the dark. The little light shinning from the street lamps were luminescent enough to reveal the horror on her father's face. He struggled to breathe under the pouring rain, it thrashed against his frail figure. Though he was out in the open, out of his cell after years of captivity, William failed to run or fight. He sat upon the ground, trembling in the cold . . . as if waiting for orders.

Tears began to fall from Rain's eyes. She prayed to the Lord, thanking Him for the raindrops that masked her inability to appear composed. _She was so close_ , so close to bringing him home. To bring him home so he could live once more in the light, beside his daughter.

"Is this your card, my dear Rainy?" Crimson jested with excessive enthusiasm.

Rain shoved her fists into her pockets. She felt the pouch of false diamonds in her right hand. Mr. Shelby looked back from where he stood. He pierced his blue eyes straight through her fear. His reassuring glance indicated that she was to continue on in with this plan.

And so, the grey-eyed girl let loose a nervous breath. She wrenched out the pouch from her coat and tossed it across the clearing where it landed straight into Crimson's ring-covered hands.

The false diamonds were crafted weeks before the real ones were discovered. It was Michael's plan to make the dupes. All Mr. Shelby needed to do was research the origin and cut of the jewels before ordering ten false diamonds. When Rain first saw them, they appeared almost as venomous as the originals. She hated those diamonds, anything remotely similar would trigger her rage. However while briefing with Mr. Shelby only an hour before, Rain shared that Crimson was dabbling with his shrinking cocaine stash. If he'd been using, which appeared to be so, the bastard would fail to notice any deceit.

As expected, Crimson inspected the jewels and counted them twice before dropping them back into the velvet pouch.

It was all going according to plan.

Without further instruction, Rain ambled forward in her step. She was halfway to her crouching father before the sound of a gun being cocked sent her focus back to Crimson. Instantly, the girl froze in her step.

"What do you think you're doing?" Crimson inquired. He aimed a pistol straight at Rain's face. She knew it was hiding somewhere.

"The deal's been made, Crimson." Mr. Shelby announced from behind her. "Or have you forgotten to establish a few conditions?"

" _I'm_ conducting this fucking transaction!" Crimson roared uncharacteristically. He seemed collected for a few moments prior to this eruption. " _I_ say when we disperse." he cleared his throat as though to excuse his outburst.

Rain eyed her father carefully. He wouldn't look at her, he wouldn't look up from the ground.

"My apologies, Mr. Crimson." Mr. Shelby exhaled. He was getting impatient with the sudden tantrum, Rain had detected. She edged back to her place, holding her breath until Crimson reclined his gun and stored back into his coat.

Another whistle weaved through the storm. This time a shorter figure holding an umbrella trotted through the open doors.

"All right!" the man grumbled, "No need to call me over like some dog."

The man was quite broad but he walked as though he were older than he appeared. His scraggly beard disguised strange red markings upon his face, though a few red blotches peered overtly on his dry skin. He wore a top hat that just barely covered his brooding eyes. Even in the dim lighting and flashes of lightening, Rain could spot his eccentric mannerisms. With one hand holding an umbrella, the other never appeared to rest. He was either scratching his beard or running it over his belly, though he managed to come across as calculated and acute.

"Can't conceive why we must do this out in the rain, but whatever the paying man wants." he said under his breath in a croaky voice.

The broad man peered at Rain once over as he walked into the light. Shortly after, his eyes grew in size once they rested on Mr. Shelby.

"Hello? _Oy!_ Did not know you'd be here." The man gestured at Mr. Shelby with his bulky left hand. "Shalom! Mr. Shelby, my, my! Shalom!"

Mr. Shelby glanced at Rain subtly, issuing a slight obstacle. Although, he didn't appear too worried about the peculiar man. "Mr. Solomons," he greeted the man briefly with a nod.

Mr. Solomons showcased a wide grin. A slight sign of confusion wreaked his expression. "He said somethin' bout a Chinese girl. I see you now," he addressed Rain, "But the first thing that comes to mind is not Thomas Shelby, is it? No?" he stood wide eyed, "Just me? Right, then."

"I hope you take no offense, Mr. Shelby." Crimson began, "Considering your success in liquidating my entire cache in one careless night, I find you and your employees," he glanced at Rain, "rather untrustworthy. So I've called upon my most trusted jeweler in London."

"No worries, Mr. Crimson." Mr. Shelby affirmed, "I'm positive this won't taint my future encounters with Mr. Solomons at all."

The man appeared apprehensive for a fleeting moment. All the while, Rain peered back and forth from her father to the odd man. If Mr. Solomons were to out them . . . All Rain could do was keep herself from looking back at Michael. She could feel the heat rising to her ears as Crimson handed the pouch to Mr. Solomons.

"Go on, Alfie." Mr. Shelby insisted, "tell the man they're real so we can get out of the bloody rain."

"Yeah, I know what I'm doin' all right, Tommy." Mr. Solomons waved him off, "Do I tell you how to conduct your business? No, I very well don't think so."

Rain had half a mind to burst into laughter at Mr. Solomons' remark. She couldn't decipher whether it was the anxiety plaguing her thoughts or if it was simply his comedic aura that caused her giddy behavior. However, she held herself frozen beside Mr. Shelby. The pair waited in silence as Mr. Solomons pulled out a monocle contraption from his coat pocket.

"Hello, big man!" He called to Bruno. "Do you mind holding this fucking thing over me?" Mr. Solomons held his umbrella for Bruno to take as he rambled on. "Honestly mate, how do you expect a man to do his fucking job?"

Bruno failed to utter a sound, though his discolored eyes appeared vexed as he took hold of Mr. Solomons' umbrella. He _did_ look a bit odd. A large, brute of a man holding umbrellas over two men while the rain poured down on him. It was enough to keep Rain sane.

The cranky man appeared much more so as he placed the magnifier on his left eye and proceeded to shake a few diamonds out onto the palm of his hand. A slow burn made its way to Rain's fingertips as he held one rock up to the light. A quick inspection, and then it was on to the next one, and then three more. All the while, Rain's breathing began to quicken in pace as she questioned how Mr. Shelby stood perfectly calm in the midst of a growing storm. They didn't prepare for an inspection.

"This one here, you see, Jackie." Mr. Solomons said in a more grounded voice. He held one jewel out in particular. The lights from Rain's car caused it to glisten. "This _single_ African diamond, you see it? This beauty is grand enough to buy you _ten_ casinos, Red Man. Let me tell you, mate, if I, myself, were not a devoted jeweler I'd run off with this single diamond alone and leave you all to hell." he remarked before eyeing Rain as if struggling to solve a mystery, "Where did a girl like you get your hands on this?"

"Thank you, Mr. Solomons." Crimson failed to notice his jeweler's quick glance exchanged with Mr. Shelby as he took hold of the pouch. "You've proven yourself useful once again."

"Of course, of course." Mr. Solomons chorused. He put away his magnifying monocle, but had kept his eyes bouncing between Mr. Shelby and Rain.

"I almost didn't believe you'd deliver, Miss. Cassin." Crimson delighted. He pulled out a diamond and studied it with a fierceness Rain had seen on him before. It was the night in his casino, when he'd discovered who she really was.

As Crimson spoke, she treaded carefully to her father. He was trembling harsher than before. She didn't wait for Mr. Shelby's consent, nor Crimson's. With each step her heart sank further into the ground.

"Years of hard work and pain," Crimson muttered, perhaps to himself. "So many lives taken, so many bridges burned . . . all for this. My darling jewels."

The girl reclined to the wet ground. The rain seeped through her father's clothes, it trailed down his skeletal limbs. Rain grasped on to William's hands, she felt them quiver at her touch.

"Papa?" she didn't acknowledge how little her voice resonated. " _C'est moi . . ._ _Renée_."

 _It's me. Please remember._

She took of her overcoat and placed it around her father's shoulders. The cold rain soaked through her shirt within seconds.

"I want to thank you, Rain." Crimson avowed as thunder boomed over the clearing.

William shook at the alarming sound. He took hold of his daughter's hands, his breathing was abnormally paced. The old man whispered nonsense as he searched around for the source of this sound. Rain kept her eyes leveled with her father's. Those grey orbs, so reminiscent of what she saw in the mirror each day. They held the fear of ten lifetimes. They held horrors she was fortunate enough to escape. After all, that's all he wanted for her when he was taken.

" _Renée!?_ " He bellowed out, "My Rain!" as if calling for her.

Finally, Rain was successful in keeping him steady on the ground. She had forgotten there were others around them when he stopped. William held the gaze of his daughter, and truly all his fear disappeared. One by one, those walls of torment fell from his eyes. Rain felt her heart rise up as she welcomed her father's steady gaze.

She saw him. She saw her father. _She saw William Cassin._

A smile filled with sorrow escaped her. "It's me, papa," she ensured him, "We're going home."

"I wan't to thank you for what you've done to me, Rain."

". . . _My Rainbow_."

Soon after William whispered the only sane words he'd spoken in years, thunder crashed around him, but it also shot right through his heart.

* * *

Once again, there was blood on Rain's hands.

This time, her father was sprawled lifelessly across her lap. She held him there, unaware of what chaos continued around her.

The moment he fell forward in her arms, her legs were rendered useless.

Once the blood penetrated his tattered shirt, it was her mind that failed to comprehend her surroundings. There was a series of shouting, from afar and from herself, but she couldn't hear any of it. She felt herself sob, felt her body convulse over her father's.

Then there were more lights as she sat upon the cold ground. More headlights from cars of men who could've been allies or enemies. There were bodies fighting bodies. Guns firing, blood splattering. When Rain looked around, no one appeared relatively familiar.

No one except Crimson.

She watched carefully as he laughed amongst the disorder, the mayhem he initiated. There were coppers, Mr. Shelby's men, and Crimson's all flailing about. Knives, clubs, nightsticks. People were dying because of him.

 _Her father suffered, because of him._

Without acknowledging it, Rain removed herself from her father's corpse wrapped in her black overcoat. She had watched any remaining life of his slip away from his grey eyes.

 _Why couldn't she let herself waste away in her misery?_

As she got on to her feet, the single remaining desire of hers was to cause destruction.

The girl stormed across the havoc that wreaked that opening. Crimson fought his way to his warehouse. In that instance, Rain found Mr. Shelby, his brothers, Isiah, and Michael fighting Crimson's men alongside the police. No one had their eyes on the bastard. They were all cut up and bloody, all consumed by their rage.

As was Rain. _So she ran._

She ran after the devil in the white suit as he slipped inside the unguarded warehouse. Her fatigue had completely escaped her. She running completely on anger. Her only hunger was for blood.

The dark halls were barren. It was a completely different setting without the yelling and scraping from the disarray outside, but Crimson's footsteps and maniacal laughs weren't distant at all. They felt tangible. Rain followed him. It was just her now. No one to hold her back, no one to raise doubts. Her shallow breaths echoed through the corridors as she raced from one to the next.

His footsteps were ascending. Rain searched for the nearest staircase. Her hands gripped onto anything in the dark, until she found the edge of a few steps. It took her seconds to follow behind.

The floor above was illuminated by the headlights from outside. The windows weren't sealed with glass, so the rain and wind were blowing in from all four corners. The large open space held pillars of unfinished walls. They countless metal bars were thick enough to hide behind.

Rain's heartbeat stilled. She forced her breathing to a steady pace as she peered around each post. Carefully, so that her shoes made no sound, the girl maneuvered along the floor. It was growing harder to listen as adrenaline raced through her veins. Drums were pounding in her ears, she was ready to jump at any moment.

As she slid along the opening, closer to the light emitting from the cars, there was a slight echo, rendering her motionless. Rain paused in any movement, carefully surveying her surroundings.

"Found you."

What she failed to notice was that the echo originated from behind her. The sound of Crimson's voice sent chills down her spine. The words slipped into ears as if he stood inches away. Suddenly, an arm reach over her throat before she could act.

"Did you honestly think I'd let you walk away from me?" he rasped in hear ear as she squirmed around in his hold.

The girl shook in his grip as he continued to strangle her from behind. Her eyes began to water and she struggled to keep still. Her instincts went haywire. She tried to wrench her fingers over his meaty hands, but he did not falter. Black spots began to form over her vision as he lifted her slightly off the ground.

"You've taken everything from me, you fucking _Chinese whore_ ," he tormented her with a pulsing clench. "I'd say we're about even now."

Before everything went black, Rain quickly kicked back her right foot. Her heavy heel whipped back into Crimson's shin. His grip instantly loosened, but only for a moment. In that moment of clarity, Rain leaned forward with all her might. It sent Crimson over her back, once she was breathing again, it was easier to slam him onto the floor with a cry of relief.

In a blur of movements, Crimson pushed Rain off of him from the ground. She was struck hard on the chest by his boot. It sent her slamming against one of the many posts. Her fear was beginning to surface once Crimson got to his feet and pulled out a gun, aiming it straight at her heaving chest.

Rain lunged forward before he had a chance to pull the trigger, successfully knocking the pistol out of his hands. She heard it drop onto the ground as she tumbled away from him. Crimson was caught off guard by her ballsy distraction. Once on her feet, with all the ferocity she could muster, Rain charged forward and propelled Crimson so he was back against a pillar. She heard his breath hitch once she thrust her forearm against his throat, meanwhile, Rain swiftly pulled out her knife from her pocket and held it against his jaw.

He was immobile under her grip regardless of her height. Her strength had doubled since their last encounter.

"I see you've learned quite a few things from those Shelby boys." he wheezed through her deadly clutch.

"You don't get to fucking talk!" Rain hissed through her teeth. She shoved him against the pillar once more. She could smell the sweat dripping from his forehead as she sliced her blade against his cheek. The blood instantly dripped down her stained knuckles as she dug deeper while he strained to keep in his cries. She felt the knife dig into his flesh, jagged and soft. The slower she cut the louder he cried. It was a feeling she'd never forget.

Once she let go, Rain felt Crimson's breaths grow shallow under her arm, yet he remained on his feet. "Go ahead," he encouraged her with a deranged chuckle. "This is how you differ from William, he was weak!"

With a cry, Rain shoved Crimson away from her sight. "DON'T FUCKING SAY HIS NAME!" she barked. His name, it instantly brought up images of her dead father. The way he looked at her with those knowing grey eyes. He knew he had found her. She had found him . . . but it was all taken from her. So quickly. So fleeting.

Rain held out her bloodstained knife at Crimson's crouched figure. He scurried back, further back as she raced forward. She laughed. She laughed at the sight of his fear. She reveled in it.

What Rain didn't see was the gun Crimson reached for. He lunged for it, but Rain dived after him. She stumbled over Crimson's body, rolling him onto his back as she strained to wrench it out of his hands. She felt his hands reach around her abdomen once he crouched over her, but she struck him hard on the nose to the point where she heard a crack. He howled in reaction to her bone breaking blow. Though he did not falter over her, he kept one hand tightly gripped over her face. His nails dug into her skin, her eyes.

Rain grabbed hold of his arm and swung it away before he could do any damage to her vision. She pushed him off her body and got on her feet with her world spinning around her and her heart beating like she were ready for death. There by the window, she saw the gun. For an instance she felt relief, but as Rain ran to reach for it, a body slammed behind her and she found herself tumbling out of the window.

The sensation of falling from a window was never what Rain imagined it would be. Instead of a gentle descend, the girl found herself latched on to Crimson by his strong grip. The two fell onto the unfinished terrace below, but on an incline. One slam on the balcony and Rain found herself short of breath with Crimson's weight on top of her. Panic shot through her as the rain poured down upon her. Another jolt of fright possessed her as they began to roll off the balcony in one quick motion. She was free at this point but braced herself for the harder fall.

Two bodies struck the ground with a thundering embrace. The fighting below had dwindled as the coppers held most of Crimson's men in cuffs. All eyes were on the fallen, bloody individuals.

The harsh impact wasn't enough to wear down Rain's fire. She had blood running down her forehead and felt her shirt tear open from the back, but she forced herself up on all fours. Her head spun with illusions racing around her vision as she moved lethargically. The terrace had aided her fall and prevented what could've been a series of broken bones. Luckily, the girl was able to stand without falling.

Crimson's focus was fixed on the wet and muddy ground behind her.

 _The pistol!_

When she saw that he was ready to take action, Rain leaped for it! Her muscles ached, but she ignored their cry for rest and landed on her abdomen before snatching the battered pistol.

It was in her hands as she rolled over, onto her back. It was real. _This was it!_

At last, the broken and bloody girl sat up to face Jack Bowery Crimson. He stood fearful, with his hands up in defeat. A wicked smile breeched her expression as she aimed the pistol up at his bloody gold teeth from her place upon the ground. Her chest heaved as she drew out a laugh and cocked the gun.

 _CRACK!_

It was the crack of a gunshot, but it did not come from the gun in Rain's hand.

* * *

For a full moment, Rain found herself at loss for words when Crimson fell backwards onto the pavement. His brains were spewed across the ground. There was even a piece near her boot. It slipped away in the small current flowing along each puddle as the storm raged on.

Disbelief . . . led to unfiltered outrage.

The girl stood up too quickly, it sent her world spinning, but it didn't stop her from searching for the shooter. She threw her gun onto the ground. Silence followed around her. Men gaped at her with fear as she walked over Crimson's lifeless body. The police were gone by then. _No coppers._ She made her way through the crowd of Mr. Shelby and Johnny's men. All of them stood motionless in the rain.

 _They knew Crimson was Rain's to kill._

 _They were ordered to leave him._

 _Ordered by Thomas Shelby._

"Rain!" Isiah approached her.

There was a ravage look in her eyes. She watched him recline from her, "Who shot him?" she questioned.

"Rain, listen -" he began, but Rain had no mind for coaxing.

"I wan't to fucking know!" Rain's eyes didn't stop searching for the shooter.

All in one night, she lost her father and failed to save him from the man who tormented him for years. That very man was not killed by her own two hands. She wasn't given the satisfaction of avenging her father.

Rain thought all of her heart was taken from her.

It wasn't until she found Michael when she realized there was still some part of her heart that was still beating.

That surviving beat died with the rest of her once she saw the gun in his hands.

"You . . ." her footing faltered. She almost tripped as she stormed forward. The adrenaline had worn off, and her wrath was not enough to keep her fatigue away. Rain weaved through the bystanders. "You fucking-" Halfway to Michael, Rain was held back by a pair of hands she couldn't identify. Her sight was forever fixated on the man she loved. The man who stole away her retribution with a swift shooting. An easy death.

Michael remained in his stance. He dropped the gun he fired beside him, watching the girl he loved ravage through the men who tried to stop her. She fought her way through the rain and the grit and the restraints.

"How could you!?" she cried as lightening flashed over her red face.

She was devastated.

He didn't make a move. He couldn't look her in the eye as she wrenched herself free from Isiah's control. The first blow was at his chest, so that he'd face her. Michael stepped back at the sudden force. It was stronger than he anticipated.

"How could you?!" she repeated with a strike to his jaw. He held on to her right wrist before she could strike again.

"I don't wan't to fight, Rain!" he exclaimed desperately.

It was Arthur who strode forward with Isiah once she pummeled Michael's face with another aggressive attack. The pair hauled her back, away from Michael, with her arms flailing. "You knew!" Rain's screams faltered into a sob. "Get the fuck off me!" she squirmed out of their grip, but she didn't run to attack him. They let her be once she kept still, but they were weary nonetheless. She stood breathless with the weight of the world on her shoulders. Rain bore at him with tired eyes. "You fucking knew, Michael . . ." she breathed.

He knew.

He knew he'd done the wrong thing the moment he did it . . . but that didn't stop Rain from running.

She ran away from the clearing even when he called after her. She ran when her friends called after her. She ran until it felt the only thing she could do.

Once again, the grey-eyed girl ran as far as she could from Green Eyes.


	37. The Visit

"He's not right." Polly admitted, to herself mostly.

Ruben Oliver sat across from the woman he found so utterly intriguing. Early that morning he raced over to her niece's home, Ada, in London after she rang. Their meeting was meant for a painting consultation, slowly it turned into a tender moment of coaxing. He did not mind at all. He was, after all, to paint Polly for several hours. He would not have offered his services if not for her appealing character.

Polly breathed in the toxins from her cigarette with her elbow resting on the finely decorated table. Her dark eyes held mysteries and worries all the same as she peered out the window. She changed out of her regal dress, yet she looked just as elegant.

"It's been one month." she shared, "One month and he's yet to speak a word of anything other than business. I tried talking to him," she anxiously put out her dying cigarette in the ashtray near her untouched tea. "Tommy, the others. We all try, but he won't say a thing about her . . . All he does is show up for work and then he goes out all night. I don't know where he goes, but I've seen this behavior before," she scoffed softly, "in Tommy." Polly's lips curved slightly, as though she were reliving an bittersweet memory. "In all the boys actually, even Ada . . . but only when things were serious did they act like this."

The sun outside peered through the window. Polly turned and met Ruben's kind eyes. "They got better, with time." She took a sip of her tea. "But I'm fearful that my son won't change unless he sees her." The calculated woman clasped her hands upon the table. "Which brings me back to you, Mr. Oliver."

"I beg your pardon?" he murmured, wiping away the tea on his mustache.

" _You_ are the closest thing to family she's got left." She theorized, "Why is that you don't appear the least bit concerned for her health and well being?"

He was at loss for words. The kind man broke into a nervous laugh, but failed to contain the betrayal in his eyes. "Forgive me, Polly, but you and I both know Renée is very much capable of taking care of herself."

Polly's coy expression breached through his lie. "Tell me where she is," she asked in a low voice.

Ruben sat defeated in his chair. He couldn't help but fall for Polly's despair. She was broken and lost. Was he to simply refuse any form of assistance for this anxious lady? However, there was Rain's trust he'd end up breaking.

"She asked me not to, not until she was ready." he expressed with grief. "I believe she hasn't healed from her loss, quite yet. I convinced myself William was dead years ago, but a small part of Renée preserved that wilting hope . . . Forgive me, Polly, but I'm afraid she needs more time."

"Please," Polly begged, searching for the right words. "Somehow I feel her misery is partially my fault and it's up to me to put an end to this-," she caught herself before swearing away her worries.

"How could you think that?" Ruben questioned with confusion.

Polly peered out the window once more. The grey clouds of the day were beginning to form. "It's my line of business, you see . . . everyone is at fault no matter how hard you try to do what's right."

* * *

Grace Shelby was many things, but impatient was not one of them. That is, until she stood at the doorstep of Rain's secret apartment.

The tall woman found herself waiting within the corridors of a grand apartment complex in London. Coincidentally, Rain chose a residence within walking distance of her husband's city loft. It took Grace ten minutes to trail into the busy city center and another five minutes to walk up the endless staircases of Rain's building due to the broken lift. It was near the Playhouse Theatre, of course. The location further suited Rain's interest, for the River Thames trailed not too far ahead.

For seven minutes, Grace waited outside room 507. It was on the highest floor and the very last room. Her room was secluded from its neighboring rooms and the staircase was close by; should she need a quick escape. The grey-eyed girl never failed to impress Grace. Although, her patience was running low with each knock.

Just when she was ready to turn around with a heavy heart, the sound of multiple locks being unlocked and unchained emitted into the empty hallway.

"Un-fucking believable," a voice from behind the door murmured. "Uncle Ollie, how many times must I teach you the secret knock? I'll just have to-" Rain broke off her rant in mid-speech once the door was fully open.

It was delightful to hear that musical voice again. For a full month, Grace had ordered her husband's best spies to search for this young woman. Each week they had failed to bring her any significant news. Rain was off the grid entirely. Untraceable. Grace had half a mind to lurk through Britain herself, if not for her son. And yet, the girl she sought was mere kilometers away from her city home, standing in a disheveled apartment with jam stains on her shirt.

Rain stood baffled with one hand on the door knob and the other holding a half-eaten pastry. Her black hair was messier than Grace had ever seen before, which was a bold statement. Her shirt was untucked and a few buttons were undone from the top, displaying a few healing scars. She appeared thin, as if she wasn't getting much of her regular exercise. Though she appeared _herself,_ which was enough to bring a warm smile on Grace's face.

"It's good to see you, Rain."

* * *

"Sorry for the mess."

Grace sat comfortably on one of Rain's ornate white couches. The towering windows of the top floor looked out to the River Thames and the buildings receding from the docks. The hidden sun brought in enough light to showcase the single room. It was a vast room, and would've appeared larger if not for the clutter.

Dinner plates were stacked high on a few counters and on a brooding armoire, accompanied by empty liquor bottles. Clothes were scattered upon every visible surface that could've easily fit inside the cabinet. A few suitcases were thrown open as if they'd vomited shoes and dresses. For some inexplicable reason, Rain had a collection of clocks that didn't appear to be working. Clocks of many odd shapes and sizes that failed to tick or tock. They were displayed all over the apartment, Grace tracked twelve before losing count.

On the far end of the large room was Rain's bed. It was a small one, but it was the only tidy aspect of the entire setting. Grace figured Rain often failed to reach that end of the room on her eventful nights. Nevertheless, Rain raced around her home, piling up her clean bed with the clothes that plagued the floors and the furniture.

"I wasn't aware that I was to have company today." Rain sheepishly explained with a pile of dishes in her arms. There was a delightfully small stove and oven in the corner of the room near another door. The restroom, of course. Rain placed the dishes on the small kitchen counter and began rummaging through the cupboards above.

"Shall I put on some tea?" she asked as though she'd never spoken those words prior to Grace's arrival.

"Actually," Grace laughed softly, "I'd rather you quit bolting around the room and sit down with me. I only have a few moments, my dear."

Rain's grey eyes grew in size, "Of course!" she let go of everything and raced to the couch opposite Grace.

The brightly lit room shined over Rain's freckled face. Her cheeks were rosy, yet slightly sunken. Grace beamed with satisfaction. Her Rain was doing quite well on her own, if only she knew how poorly the office had been functioning without her. The books were all right, yet the atmosphere remained . . . _robbed_ of its warmth. So when Grace looked over Rain's tousled, yet content new life, she felt rather selfish for the intrusion. If there was anything this girl needed after the tragic death of her father, it was peace.

"You must have a great deal to say if you can't find the words, Miss. Grace." Rain snickered. Her girlish laugh caught Grace's attention by storm. She failed to realize that she'd been lost in her own thoughts.

"I'm only relieved to see that you're all right, Rain." Grace exhaled.

"How did you find me?" Rain asked, in all seriousness.

There was a hint of her distress that peeked through her happy facade. It was subtle, yet Grace spotted it the moment it came into existence. This eccentric behavior, it was simply Rain's anxiety protruding through her safe haven after weeks of solitude.

"Do you forget I used to be a spy?" Grace carefully delivered.

"Ruben Oliver told you." Rain guessed.

"Polly told me," she revealed. "But Mr. Oliver did inform Polly, yes."

Rain faltered momentarily, she sat back against the couch. "Now _that_ was unexpected," her grey eyes slid up the walls behind Grace and to the high ceiling above. "Of course, Uncle Ollie confessed under some sort of manipulation but," she pondered without distaste, "I thought she'd be more than pleased about my absence."

"Does anyone know why Polly does what she does?" Grace inquired, mostly to herself.

She saw that Rain was waiting. Her ghostly eyes seared deeply into her own. Grace wondered if Rain was fully aware of how intimidating her gaze was, regardless of how young she was. On some occasions, Grace found herself wondering the same thing about Tommy. This was a quality the two shared, and a stubborn behavior was another.

Grace cleared her throat softly, "Rain, I came here to ask for a favor."

"Why do I have a feeling I know what that favor will be?" Rain said, not in a rude fashion, but rather in a coy one.

"There was a time when I thought I could never speak to Tommy again. I was miserable after what I'd done that broke our trust. Then I found myself even more so without him."

"I'm not miserable." she established.

Grace saw through the girl's weak smile. There was ice in her gaze, heat in her posture. Grace hadn't even mentioned Michael's name and Rain's stance was already defensive. She wasn't miserable, no, but she wasn't happy either.

"If you say so." Grace nodded, "But Michael is."

At this, Rain faltered.

"Ada and Lizzie miss you. You know that I cherish your company. All of us are hurt that you've left us. You're going to let one boy get in the way of our friendship, Rain? That doesn't seem clever to me. And I thought you were a clever girl."

"It isn't just Michael, Grace." she stammered. Grace took notice of Rain's broken voice, but she forced away her emotions and sat up taller. However, her facade had truly fallen once her grey eyes appeared to be glazed with stubborn tears. " . . . Have you forgotten that I found and lost my father all in one night?"

Grace felt her own shoulders fall. She felt her heart sink all over again. She felt the pain that emitted from this young girl's troubled life. Rain; an innocent child thrown into a world of lies and gunfire. A lawless life that will never cease to haunt her.

At once, Grace sat up from her seat to console Rain. The girl didn't let a single tear fall, but she let Grace envelope her in a comforting embrace. Rain let her head fall against Grace's violently beating heart.

"How could I forget what causes you such pain?" Grace held tightly onto Rain as her own tears began to fall. "Can't you see why I'm so inclined to have you back? No one should suffer alone." The angelic woman wiped away her own tears and held Rain by the chin. She bore straight into those grey eyes that bewitched her so. "Especially on their birthday."

A small beam escaped Rain. She closed her eyes tight and let a stubborn tear slide into existence upon her freckled cheeks. "Who told you?"

"Last night was the first time he spoke of you in over a month." Grace exhaled a shaky breath. To her relief, Rain's didn't push her away. She merely dropped her gaze to one of the many clocks on the coffee table. "Come tonight," she wiped away the trail of a tear on Rain's freckled cheek, "You are most formally invited to the Shelby Charity Dinner."

Grace ran across the room once more. She grabbed a small envelope from the pocket of her coat, leaving Rain to evaluate the event.

Rain failed to move from her spot, but Grace handed her the envelope regardless of her cooperation. "If not for me, then for some cake."

"What kind?" Rain held the envelope with a tight grip.

A wave of relief rushed through Grace's head. She was considering her offer. "Vanilla."

"Hmm . . ." The girl pondered to herself before getting on her feet. "I'm not very fond of vanilla cake." she challenged.

"Then I'll order a chocolate one," Grace countered.

"If I had known you were going to give in that quickly I would've asked for a dozen cakes."

Rain's eyes twinkled with delight. Grace figured this was the first time Rain had toyed with someone in a long while. There were only hints of her Rain shining through. In that moment she prayed she would shine through soon, before any darkness could corrupt her light while its vulnerable state remained resistant.

"Anything for the birthday girl." Grace beamed with the weight of alleviation conquering over her grief when Rain finally nodded in confirmation that she would indeed attend. "Wonderful!" she expressed with genuine joy before placing on her coat in a hurry, "I'm sorry I'm off so soon! It's the dinner tonight, I'm organizing _everything_ and it's running my mind array. I'll have someone drop off the dress I had made for you. It's a beautiful black dress with-"

"-Grace!" Rain intervened before she was halfway through the door.

"Yes, my dear?" Grace placed on her hat and stood patiently for Rain to speak up again. She appeared distraught, as if unaware how to say what was on her mind.

"I wanted to thank you . . . for visiting me." she exhaled, as if it were difficult to say these words. "I didn't know how much I needed a familiar face until I saw one."

Grace dropped her shoulders and strolled over to Rain for one last embrace. She held on for quite a while, wrapping her lengthy arms around the girl's shoulders. "Don't ever run away like that again. Do you understand?" she whispered in her ear. Rain nodded against her neck. "The only exception is when you want to drive Polly mad with Michael's brooding behavior, but you're required to brief me beforehand."

Rain laughed her girlish laugh. It was soft and weak, but it was the most light she had appeared during Grace's entire visit. She left the clock infested apartment with a warm heart, awaiting the grand night that was only hours away.

* * *

The grey-eyed girl lied awkwardly upon her white couch wearing only a silk robe. She eyed the dress across from her with her head hanging off the edge of the cushion. Her bare legs were propelled over the headrest of the couch, kicking the air as though she were cycling upside down.

Even as the blood rushed to her head, Rain sat staring at the cream dress a man had delivered to her doorstep nearly two hours ago. When it arrived she took a bath, cleaned her apartment of any filth, rearranged the placement of her many clocks, had a smoke, and eventually found herself sitting before the dress. Her wet hair was completely dry by the time she sat upright on the couch.

Rain huffed in her place, admiring the beauty of the elegantly crafted dress. It was sleeveless, with a low neckline, it was almost nonexistent. The work on it was mostly hand-sewn, Rain could see the detail within each beaded and pearly design upon the silk fabric. At the very bottom of the slim dress, there were fringe textures framed in an angular fashion. It was short enough to display fragments of skin, that was for sure. As she achingly admired the dress, Rain thought to herself, _this is definitely a fancy event_. One even more decadent than the wedding.

 _The wedding._

A simple thought of that day brought Rain into a low, anchoring depression. That bittersweet event was only what began a downward spiral in her life. Michael's disappearance, and then her father's. It had been a month since she had lost him, but Rain woke up each morning feeling as though she'd lost him all over again.

A while ago, Rain realized that it wasn't Michael's actions that led her into hiding. Though it may have fueled her decision to leave, Rain knew in her heart it was because she needed to be alone. She needed to get away from Birmingham, from the Peaky Blinders, from the violence, even if it meant leaving Michael behind too. She wouldn't know how to live after a loss like that.

But time had changed Rain. She lived in solitude for over a month, learning to act and react like a sane human once again. She rarely ever cried, but she'd often find herself unable to move or speak for more than a few minutes. The girl couldn't explain it, nor shake herself from the lethargic grip it had on her. Rain figured, if it only happened for a few moments at a time, it was nothing to worry about.

 _Michael will be there._

The thought of him brought a bit of life back into her drowsy state. Her heart fluttered for a swift moment. She had forgotten of the green-eyed boy for most of her time sulking away. She had forced his image out of her system by focusing on fixing clocks and watching plays in the city. During her lonely nights, Rain drank herself to sleep. Only enough so she _could_ find some sleep, until she finally ended her days with genuine rest. Michael was nonexistent during the day, that is until he'd find his way to her dreams, but she refused to acknowledge him in the mornings.

 _Would he forgive me?_

Rain shook her head violently and stormed all the way to the dress. She cursed herself for allowing these thoughts to reach her conscious mind. The girl stripped herself out of her robe and grabbed the silky ensemble. Grace had gone out of her way, disregarding her busy schedule, just for Rain. It would be an insult to dismiss her invitation. If there was one person that could convince Rain to stop acting so childish, it was Grace. It was her birthday, after all. She wasn't going to sulk away in a room filled with broken clocks.


	38. The Shelby Foundation Charity Dinner

_Note:_

 _Thank you guys for such kind words 3_  
 _-Fia J._

* * *

The night began as a warm one with lights gleaming over the hall that held Grace's charity party. Rain stepped out of her cab without a clue of the dark and cold events that would end the night and all its glory.

The girl made her way across the busy entrance in a grey fur coat. She blended in quite nicely amongst the waiting guests decorated in jewels, pearls, silks, and sheen. Luckily, her name was on the top of the priority guest list. The event manager's eyes grew wide at the sight of Rain, quickly apologizing for the "misunderstanding" that began when the attendee at the door felt unconvinced she was actually the "Renée Cassin" on the list. Nevertheless, she didn't let her mood fall so quickly, so the girl let the mishap slide as the event manager, himself, offered to take her coat and led her to the entrance hall of the monumental building.

It was cooler inside. She felt her bare arms and chest tingle at the chilling air that resided within. No one else around her appeared as distraught as she. The hall was a grand sight with finely assorted flowers hanging from the towering ceiling and cascading from every stone column and curved staircase. There were diamond chandeliers meticulously scattered around to create a heavenly hue of lighting around the polished opening. Indeed it was a fancy event.

The hall was filled with guests even more finely decorated than the actual venue. All of them were awaiting for dinner to be served in the next hall, so conversations and donations were steadily exchanged in certain circles. Stepping into the live atmosphere, Rain coaxed her limbs to relax. It was simply the a Charity Dinner. This was a night for Grace's accomplishments in the business, that's all she was here for.

She was to make an appearance, greet Grace, and be on her way.

Rain strayed away from the lively center, avoiding any form of conversation with men she didn't wish to speak with. Miraculously, as though it were fate, there a was a table plastered with savory appetizers and endless tiers of chocolate treats.

 _Why is this table not crowded with guests?_

Suddenly she wasn't so anxious to leave. Rain hastily ambled in the direction of that delicious table. However, in the process she came to overlook a certain someone who'd managed to step in her way.

"Off to run away again, have you Rain?"

The girl froze in her step. That deep, guttural voice she'd know anywhere. Rain relaxed her shoulders once more and reversed her footing to inevitably face Mr. Shelby.

"Oh, leave her be, Tommy." It was Grace who he held by the arm. "It's her birthday after all, and she had enough heart to come for me."

As relieving as the thought of Grace could be, words could not explain the sight of her as she stood ever so charmingly next to her stoic husband.

"Actually, I came for the cake." Rain jested.

It was welcoming, to see that smile on Grace's face, even more so the hint of amusement on Mr. Shelby's.

 _Am I dreaming?_

"Nevertheless, a happy birthday to you Rain." Mr. Shelby cleared his throat, striking eyes roaming the perimeter. "I take it you'll be back in the office on Monday."

" _Thomas_ ," Grace cautioned.

"No need, Grace." Rain began, "Actually, I assumed that after my. . . _absence_ you'd have found someone else to do the job, Mr. Shelby."

"I did," Mr. Shelby affirmed, his eyes finally meeting hers. Rain felt a chill go down her spine, she could never tell if he was being cruel or lighthearted. "Although, he's not quite as fast as you."

"I'm relieved to hear my skills were appreciated."

"Your presence in the office would probably lift up a few spirits as well."

"That's enough, Tommy." Grace lightly enforced. As swiftly as Mr. Shelby addressed the issue, the subject was quickly thrown under the rug by Grace. "You look enchanting, Rain." she beamed, letting go of her husband and embracing Rain in her welcoming arms.

When Grace stepped away, Rain noticed the cream color and subtle work on Grace's outfit almost went hand in hand with her own. It delighted Rain that Grace wanted their ensembles to correspond. Even their gloves were identical. The only thing that stood apart from Rain was the entrancing sapphire diamond that hung from Grace's neck.

"I'm delighted that you're here. Excuse me while I tend to some of our guests." Grace grasped on to Rain's hand and squeezed tightly before whispering in her ear, "If something bothers you tonight, come to me."

"Thank you." Rain gripped Grace's hand, before she slipped away.

"I predict you'll have an unforgettable birthday tonight, Rain."

With a subtle wink, Grace sauntered away to speak with one of her many prestigious guests, leaving Rain to endure Mr. Shelby's unpredictable nature.

He retrieved two glasses of champagne from a waiter and handed one to Rain. She instantly felt the cool air cling on to her skin once again. She took the glass and shared a sip with her former boss.

"I'm shocked you made it tonight, Rain." Mr. Shelby commented. Cool and calculated. He never did or said anything without an agenda.

"I'd do anything for Grace." Rain voiced, administering that Mr. Shelby had no part in her decision to attend the dinner.

"Of course," He stated, slightly raising a brow. "She's very fond of you as well." Mr. Shelby downed the rest of his champagne. His restriction from smoking certainly played a hand in his drinking habits. Something was definitely on his mind. I can't tell you how much her mood has improved since yesterday. And for that I want to sincerely thank you."

Rain was skeptic of Mr. Shelby to begin with. His kind words only furthered her uncertainty. "Is that truly all you want to establish at the moment?"

The dark man glanced at the space beyond Rain before meeting her eyes. "Now that you're no longer grieving, there is some business we must discuss when the time comes, but not at the moment."

Rain didn't bother to respond. She waited patiently, sipping on her champagne as slowly as possible. After a prolonged silence, Mr. Shelby leaned forward.

"I can't force you to come back to work for me. That much I know." he began, stepping in a bit closer so that no one wandering close could hear. The music was less apparent as he spoke in his usual low voice directly into her ear. "But I can say, that aside from a few unfortunate casualties, Miss. Cassin, you won't be able to forget this line of work . . . it calls to you just as it does for the rest of us, because it makes us feel above the fuckers that so desperately want to keep us quiet."

Mr. Shelby took a step back. Rain was fully aware he had grasped her attention. He was waiting for the opening and she had given it to him. Before slipping away, he made one final note.

"Don't let one loss," he looked over her head once more, "or one heartbreak keep you from having what's yours."

The dark man swiftly walked past Rain. She was at loss for words, but when she turned around, she truly had nothing to say.

* * *

There he stood, in the middle of the grand hall speaking kindly with an old woman inquiring about the charity. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face . . . always playing the part.

Rain caught her breath at the sight of him.

There were dark circles under his green eyes that were visible even through the make up. His cheeks were sunken in, as if he rarely ate but his build was nothing short of lean. Bruises scattered over his knuckles that could easily be overlooked, but Rain found herself taking in every detail of the boy.

He had been fighting, that was for sure. Maybe that's where he'd slip off to in the middle of the night, as Ruben Oliver had revealed to her a fortnight ago. When she ran off, Rain made it clear to her uncle that she had no intent on speaking with anyone besides him, nor did she wish her whereabouts to be made public knowledge. Regardless, her uncle managed to "slip out" a few details about the son of the woman he'd been courting.

When Michael finally ended the conversation with the regal old woman, his eyes found Rain's before she could turn away.

The girl didn't feel the hollow space aching in her heart until those green eyes found her. She felt her body tense up and hadn't the slightest idea how to navigate her limbs.

Instant.

That draining regret was instant. She had kept away from him too long, so long that her thoughts began to flood with the sensation of his skin touching hers. Her heart and mind were out of sync once she found him staring right back. Her breathing was shallow and she felt trapped in this crowded hall of unfamiliar faces.

What finally riled her focus, was when he began to make his way down the hall.

Love certainly managed to strip Rain of the concrete walls she had built up for years. She backed away from the crowds of glittering guests. Her chest heaved with each step, every anxious nerve in her body prevented her from controlling her mannerisms. As she walked around aimlessly trying to avoid him, the anxious girl ran her hands up and down her thighs. It took her four tries before realizing there weren't any pockets upon that bloody dress. _Why couldn't she remain calm? Where was her usual cool exterior?_ Her thoughts went array with an apology and then with anger.

 _Why should I apologize? I had him, I was so fucking close- he bloody fucking knew! But look at him, Rain, he's suffering- so what!?_ _SO WHAT!? WHY!? Why is it so hard to look at him- because you love him, that's why - NO! That does not fucking excuse our broken trust- but you're miserable- STOP! You miss him- STOP! Just forgive him- STOP STOP STOP!_

It was because Michael knew every inch of her. He'd seen her at her worst, at her best, and everything in between. He'd know if she were just playing a part. For a full month she was able to forget, but now there was no hiding, no disguises she could wear . . . especially when she weaved around a flower-covered pillar and found him standing directly before her.

"Rain," he exhaled, a weak smile creeping upon his lips. Remorse filled his tired green eyes.

Michael held up his hands quickly in efforts to stop her. Rain had no choice but to cease her every move, her every contradicting thought. She stood speechless before him with her right fist clenched tightly behind the pillar. She leaned against it, knowing her knees had gone weak with defeat.

As they stood there, on the sidelines of the party, Rain took in the stark sight of his disheveled, honey curls and that contradicted his cautious stance in that shiny black suit.

"Michael," Rain managed to address him. She felt him examine her as she did to him.

"You're looking well," he cleared his throat, waiting for her to respond.

He was uncomfortable, just as much as Rain was, she could tell by the way he kept avoiding her eyes. His eyes fell to the floor then trailed to a figure beyond Rain as the music played on. A month had passed between them. A month since they even laid eyes on each other, why did it feel like an entire year had gone by?

"How are you these days?" he asked in his usual grim tone. Although it felt forced.

Rain let her tight shoulders fall, it ached her to assume he had been fine their whole time apart. His emotions faltered here and there, but why was he so keen on avoiding the underlying tension? Did their time apart mean nothing to him?

"I've seen happier days." She looked away from Michael and coincidentally found Polly in the crowd. She was dressed in a flowing gown of soft lilac. The moment Rain caught that sorrowful acknowledgement in Polly's eyes, she turned her attention back to Michael. He was looking at her this time.

"Are you not happy?" He implored without a hint of scrutiny. It was a genuine question, though he disguised his concern with that stoic exterior.

Rain suddenly stood up tall. If he wasn't going to apologize, then why should she? The girl pushed away her anxiety further as she drank the last of her champagne. She threw it away, no matter how much she ached to say what she truly felt about him, about how much she missed talking to him.

"I'm fine. Thank you, Michael." She declared, placing the glass on the high table near the pillar.

"I'm glad to hear it." He said, biting his lower lip. Perhaps to stop himself from saying anything else.

She hated this. She hated feeling like a stranger, but she held on to her stubborn habits as they shared a game of silent confessions.

When she failed to say anything back, Michael shook his head slightly and cleared his throat. "I need to speak with you in private."

His formal tone certainly was strange. It dazed Rain. _Were they back to their unfamiliar beginnings_?

"Please?" He added gravely.

Rain had no choice but to accept. There was no threat in his tone, but it was almost a plea. So she followed behind Michael as he walked forward without looking back. They were so close in proximity, yet Rain felt she was nowhere near the Michael she left behind on that stormy night.

Michael walked along the perimeter before stepping between the opening of two towering doors. He led her into the concert hall. It was barren, bleak and erased most of the noise just outside. Rain followed close behind as he stepped into the first row of seats. The dim lighting bounced off the work on her cream dress. She was the brightest figure in the room. Rain's footsteps echoed across each bleacher and up the high ceiling until she stopped a few paces from Michael.

They sat down in adjacent seats. He didn't say a thing for a moment. The two shared the silence, staring across the vacant hall. While beside Michael, Rain could smell his soapy scent, but there was a sharp tinge of cigarette smoke hidden underneath. She couldn't tell if it was more apparent than usual or if she had simply forgotten his scent during her absence in Birmingham.

"Are you all right, Michael?" Rain asked with genuine concern, to which he scoffed softly.

"No, Rain." He shook his head as though laughing at a silly joke. "I'm not particularly all right these days."

His frankness shook Rain. She didn't expect him to let his facade drop so quickly. She faced him, but he refused to look at her.

"But we're not here to talk about me, so let's leave it at that." He reached for something in the pocket of his trousers.

"What exactly are we doing then?"

Without saying anything, Michael pulled out a photograph and a key from his pocket and handed it to Rain. She strained her eyes against the dim lighting, but she took hold of the picture and focused her sight on the black and white image. It was about the size of her hand and held the image of a home. A strikingly familiar home near the bay. It was a two story apartment with barred up windows and a dilapidated fence surrounding the small yard.

 _It was a photograph of her home in Portsmouth_.

"Tommy found your first home a few weeks back. We had Charlie bring back photographs and the paperwork."

She found her eyes glued to the photo clenched in her hands. It was her home. Her first home. The one she had lived with her mother in.

Michael handed her an iron key. It lay heavy in her limp hand.

"Happy birthday, Rain."

"Michael," She shook her head in disbelief, but his eyes remained across the hall. "I can't accept this gift." Rain held out the key for him to take back. "You know I can't."

"It's not mine to give you."

Rain raised a brow.

"The home is still under your father's name. It's under contract for the next forty years. Been locked up since the day you left it. The law recognizes that you're William Cassin's next of kin... It's yours, Rain."

"I don't know what to say."

He placed his hands within his now empty pockets and failed to meet her eyes. "Just thought you have the right to know."

A series of thoughts raced through Rain's mind, did he know she'd be coming, or did he just happen to have this on his person at the right time? The only thing that rang true was that he didn't have to do this. And for that she was grateful. Aside from the month long war, she felt herself finally slip from her arms and into a true emotional state. Without having another word to say, Rain took hold of Michael's hand. Only then did he manage to look her in the eyes.

"Thank you, Michael."

He held on to her hand for a lingering moment, as though her touch said more than what was actually being spoken that night. Rain failed to let go. It was a reaction she was accustomed to, a familiar sensation that relieved her of any and all pain. After a month of seclusion, she finally felt like she was breathing again.

"Rain, I-" Michael began, but before he could say anything more, the doors to the concert hall were thrown open and Rain felt Michael's grip tighten over hers.

Two figures hovered at the entrance of the dark room. Rain fixed her eyes on the taller figure. He appeared to be a man of the cloth. As the men could surveyed the opposite side of the hall, Michael was already on his feet, but only to lead her toward the back exit. The two slipped out of the seating row and dissolved within the shadows. Rain followed hastily behind, struggling to remain soundless in the dark.

Michael had found the opening in a matter of seconds, and led Rain out of the concert hall without being detected. It was all so fast and fleeting, Rain hadn't realized that Michael appeared distraught in the bright lighting of the corridor.

 _Why was he so anxious to disappear?_

"Is everything fine?" she asked him once he let go of her hand.

Michael avoided her eyes. "I have to go," he said breathlessly.

"Wait, Michael-" But he was already lost within the sea of guests.

Rain held back, at loss for words. What was she to ask him? What was he going to say before those men came in? Why did the sight of them frighten Michael?

Although "frighten" wasn't a fitting word. Rain held the iron key to her home and the photograph close to her chest. She found herself fixed on the door they had escaped through rather than the gifts he bestowed upon her.

He wasn't anxious to get out of the concert hall.

 _He was anxious to get away from those men._

* * *

The moment Rain stepped back into the flourishing entrance hall, she was inundated with a series of guests.

One women had managed to grasp her attention with questions of how Rain found herself a position in Mr. Shelby's company. She must've been a reporter, for every answer Rain gave, there was another question waiting right behind it. After Rain excused herself, a young Frenchman had offered her a drink while they waited for the dinner to commence in the dining hall. When she politely declined, he insisted on having a moment of her time to discuss matters other than business or the charity.

"You look beautiful tonight, Rain."

It was Polly who had saved Rain from the determined young man. She approached Rain in her flowing gown, eyeing her dress first and then to the nerve-stricken guest.

"Would you mind giving me a moment with my employee, Mr. Hill?" she asked in a regal tone that weighed heavily on one's self confidence. It was enough to render Mr. Hill detached from Rain's figure.

"Of course, Madame Shelby." and he was gone within that second, leaving Rain to regather her thoughts. She pushed out anything pertaining to Michael's nervous nature just moments ago.

"I'd advise you to stay clear from Mr. Hill." She stated, watching the pretty Frenchman as he made his way to another young woman dressed in pearls. "He's quite popular among young women and their dying husbands."

If that was an attempted joke, then Rain couldn't detect it. Polly caught on to Rain's somber attitude. As Rain expected, Polly had dropped the act.

"Truth is, I wanted to apologize."

At this, Rain pondered over Polly's words. She held tightly onto the key and photograph, which Polly took note of. Of all things, Rain did not expect a confession from Elizabeth Gray.

"I don't often- goodness, bear with me." Polly cleared her throat, "I take it my behavior towards you is one factor as to why you left us."

"Polly, It had nothing to-"

"-Hush now, let me say what I need to get off me chest." She intervened.

Polly continued once Rain relaxed her posture. "When I learned where you came from, I didn't want you to work for Thomas. Only because girls like us are bound to get hurt." In that pause, Rain could see the uncertainty rise in Polly's strong stance. Her eyes, Rain had never seen her dark eyes so afraid. "You know that Michael was taken from me when he was just a boy. I lost Michael once before, I didn't think I'd live again . . . And then you go and save him that night and your father - . . . Afterwards I found myself thinking about what a complete fool I've been."

Polly found her focus on Rain now, her voice low and words filled with truth. "I didn't- I didn't want you to suffer as I did, yet it happened nonetheless. And for that I am truly sorry, Rain. I am."

To Rain's surprise, she did not deliver a rude remark to taunt Polly's dated apology. But Rain had come to know the woman that Polly was. She would never apologize to anyone. Not even for her own life, but for her son . . . she would do anything.

"Perhaps my method of denouncing you in efforts to push you away from this business wasn't ideal," Polly continued, mustering up her remaining confidence. "But a mother does everything she can for her children . . . And I see now that you're what's best for Michael."

"Jesus, Polly," Rain muttered under her breath. She looked away, swiftly catching a tear from her eyes before it could fall. "Thank you, Polly . . . but that doesn't quite fix things, I think."

A soft bell went off in the distance and a servant had announced that dinner was served. Rain successfully delayed her tears as waves of guests headed toward the dining hall.

"I understand," Polly looked at Rain as though she were longing to say more, but instead, she gently took hold of Rain's arm. "I didn't expect it to." she said softly, "Come, let's go and eat away our sorrows."

As Polly insisted on accompanying Rain across the hall, a calm breeze weaved through Rain's bloodstream. They walked arm in arm, ushering along the other guests.

After weeks of seclusion, Rain felt as though things were truly getting better. Never in her dreams did she see herself on good terms with Polly. She felt light, and free from her anxieties as Polly comforted her with her motherly embrace. For a moment, she had forgotten about her father, about Michael, about her grief. The sensation of being understood . . . that was what kept her from falling to pieces.

Though the night began warm and young, Rain, nor a single Shelby was to see it close on a blessed note. The night was unpredictable, as Rain's life had always been, before and after she began to work for Mr. Shelby. Polly made it clear that this line of work would never bring them definite peace, no matter how high they were to climb. It was on that night that Rain understood what it meant to be a part of the Peaky Blinders. She was accustomed with the brighter side: the people she'd come to love and the money that came with her services. There were unfortunate losses as well: the danger of being around untrustworthy men, and her father's death.

What the girl did not consider, was the likability of losing someone moments after something good happened. She did not consider the statistics of a suicide mission taking place the night of the Shelby Foundation Charity Dinner. She, in fact, did not consider the victim to be Grace Shelby.

As the gun was fired, and the bullet raced through the flesh and bones of the angelic woman that was Grace Shelby, Rain found herself lost amongst the storm of guests fleeing from chaos. Her arm was bleeding once Polly had unclenched her nails to race after Grace. _Grace_. Grace who was on the floor, and Mr. Shelby rioting right beside her. The shooter, he wasn't to see the sun again after tonight.

And Rain, she stood watching the golden light, slowly fade from the brightest figure in that room.

An unforgettable birthday, indeed.


	39. Say It (M)

The Garrison was as empty as life without Grace felt.

There was no one to tend the bar, not a single staff member ambled about, and not a single noise came to life other than the keys jingling from Michael's hand. The pouring rain was shut out by the _slam_ of a heavy door. The sudden clamor forced Rain to plummet back into the reality of loss.

Michael lumbered forward, as if he had not been standing near a grave but performing manual labor instead.

Rain's thoughts went back to the funeral as she made were way down the barren pub, it was apparent that Michael was not the only one plagued with grief.

No one spoke at the funeral. Everyone dragged along their heavy hearts and left without any coaxing to lift their spirits up. Black figures scattered the muddy clearing as the weather stormed along the service. Mr. Shelby was the blackest of them all. Rain felt it was his shadow that arrived and left within the first fifteen minutes of the ceremony. It may have been the sight of Grace's family and their unspoken criticism toward the Gypsy families that arrived to pay their respects, or it may have been the fact that his wife was no longer beside him. Nevertheless, the widower raced away upon a dark horse.

No one bothered to follow behind.

Once the dirt and mud covered Grace's casket, people began to slip away. One by one, until it was only Rain who stood over the newly arranged earth in a drenched black dress. A _dress_ because Grace preferred her in women's clothes, although she never reproached Rain's alternative selections. The grey-eyed girl remained motionless with a single white rose clenched in her fists. She stood there until it became apparent that the cold weather failed to affect her still body. She felt a faint stream of blood drip from her grip on the thorny stem of her withering flower, the sharp pain did little to strike her nerves. She was numb, overcome with heartache she did not wish to put on display. Even so, Rain kneeled down to place the single white rose among the blanket of red ones before leaving.

A white rose for another angel whose flame was blown carelessly away into a wisp of forgotten smoke.

It was Michael who stood across the clearing, waiting for her by his running car. He somehow managed to convince Ada and Polly that Rain would come back home with him.

Of course, Rain had no remaining strength to dodge him. She just wanted to get as far away from the burial site as she could. So when he asked if she wanted to visit her father's grave, Rain declined. Without another word, Michael held the passenger door open for her as she silently climbed in.

After a wordless, hour long drive she found herself inside the Garrison.

Michael walked around the bar while Rain slipped out of her drenched coat and placed it on a velvet stool adjacent to the one she sank into. She placed her hat upon the counter, relieving her wet hair from the unwanted pressure. The girl shook the water droplets from her damp locks as the boy forced off his fitted suit coat and soaking vest, throwing them to a corner.

It was understood that the pair's strained actions more so resembled the grief they wanted to relieve themselves of.

Rain hadn't realized her eyes were closed until Michael placed two shot glasses on the counter before her. Two soft clinking sounds made their way into existence, yet it plunged her focus into the background, away from any thoughts of Grace. She leaned forward, watching Michael as he poured whiskey into each glass.

Without any exchange, the two downed a full glass. It went without saying, they were going to drown themselves in liquor before the moon would rise.

The two slammed their empty glasses onto the counter. Rain found herself with shut eyes once more, she'd lost count of how much she had to drink. She balanced her chin upon her knuckles with both elbows on the counter, fully aware that Michael had been watching her from across the bar. They'd managed to drink without saying a word. The silence pestered Rain. She wanted so badly to hear Michael's voice. It didn't matter what she was ready to say, so long as he'd reply.

"Say it." she ordered softly.

"Say what?" he rasped in a low voice. He was closer to her now. She could smell his whiskey coated breath. A scent she rarely ever encountered on Michael, but Rain assumed it was going to stay for a while. She heard him pour another shot into both glasses.

Rain opened her eyes. She pierced her grey eyes at his distorted image and sat up straight in preparation for what was to come. His tie was missing and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone. It matched the disheveled appearance of his wet hair plastered against his forehead. As she caught herself staring, Rain realized this was almost how Michael looked when he'd shot Crimson outside the abandoned warehouse. Only, now he was thinner and he lacked the blood stains upon his skin and clothes . . . and Rain lived that moment of betrayal all over again. Shortly afterwards, she saw her father, cold and dead in the night.

* * *

Michael downed another shot, his focus never leaving her, but he refused to speak.

"Tell me how angry you are with me." Without another second to endure, Rain reached for the bottle of whiskey and knocked back three shots worth of the poison. She placed the glass bottle onto the counter, feeling the warm effect sprinkle along her drying body. "I want to hear it."

The girl smiled, but the boy was nothing close to amused. He began to read Rain's face and somehow knew of her intentions.

"You really don't want that, Rain." Michael said. He avoided her eyes and knocked back the remaining shot glass before turning around to examine the many odd bottles of liquor. He busied himself as though Rain was going to forget about her drunken request.

Rain stretched back on her stool, surveying Michael. "Because you know exactly what I want and need, isn't that right, Michael?" She laughed bitterly.

Michael let go of the bottles, a series of _clinks_ emitted throughout the empty bar. The pouring rain grew more apparent as he stood in his place, contemplating if he was to delve into her argument. He rolled back his shoulders, Rain could see his muscles retract under his white shirt. As she expected, he turned around. Michael placed both hands on the counter as if conducting business.

"Must we get into this?" he exhausted, "Right after the _fucking funeral_ , Rain?"

"Why not now?" She reached for the bottle once more, but Michael swiped it away.

Rain leaned forward and in a grave tone she uttered, "If you're not going to let me drink, then at least tell me what the fuck's going on in that bloody mind of yours."

From how close his face was to hers, Rain could hear his shallow breaths. He was so close to spewing it all out. It was exactly what she needed so that all the death around her would melt into nothing. So that she'd have a reason to let her own thoughts spill, no matter how ugly, it didn't matter. Rain was certain that Michael had no right to be hostile toward her, and yet she felt guilty at the same time. These altering notions had battled through her brain endlessly since she came back.

Michael inhaled heavily once more, glancing momentarily at Rain's knowing lips. To her demise, he handed her the bottle, dismissing her provocation.

Rain sat back in her stool and guzzled down another shot, eyeing Michael with an angry gaze fueled by the warm liquid. The effects of the whiskey were quite fast at surfacing. It was easier for her to recall why she had left in the first place.

"Of course." Rain hummed, placing the bottle on the counter. "You didn't tell me you were going to kill Crimson. Why did I expect you'd tell me anything today? Tomorrow? Ever?" A laugh escaped her. One she couldn't recognize as her own. A laugh she couldn't quite control with the liquor at her heels.

"Just as you tell me everything?" he countered, finishing the last of the whiskey. He pointed at her with the empty bottle in his hand. "What about this secret home of yours?"

"How dare you compare that to what you did?" Rain spat in disgust. The amusement was gone from her eyes.

"Why the fuck not?" he argued, with the same look of frustration in his tired eyes.

"You know why the fuck not, Michael!"

"You've been lying to me since the moment we first met, Rain." Michael disclosed, as though she had forgotten. "Did you think it was easy for me to trust you? To let myself get close to a girl who won't tell me anything about her life until she's beaten half to death by some third party?"

"Withholding information is not the same as lying." Rain struggled to keep her voice steady. "I have - I've _never_ lied to you." She stressed, grey eyes cold as ice. "Can you say the same to me?"

"I've told many lies in my life," he studied her, inches away from her lips. "But I can assure you, Rain, that I've never uttered a single lie to you."

Michael remained fixed on Rain, unable to look away after weeks of not seeing her, no matter how brutal her topic of interest was that night.

"But you broke our trust." Rain breathed, her voice failing her, her meaningless tears falling, so she laughed them away. "I'd say that's worse than lying, don't you, Mr. Gray?"

Michael held on to Rain's gaze after her attempt to instigate him. He bit his lower lip, as he always did when he wanted to say something, but instead he chose to avoid anymore confrontation. He backed away from Rain's figure and ran a hand over his damp hair. "I think that's enough of that."

A strike of rage ran through Rain's unfiltered mind. She shook her head heavily. "You do not dictate when this conversation is over!" her voice rising.

"Then what is it you truly want from me, Rain?" He questioned, losing his patience. "An apology? Well, I'm sorry I shot the man that abused you and killed your father, I'm sorry I couldn't stomach the idea of you losing yourself to murder!"

"Oh!" Rain began in bitter admiration, throwing her hands in the air. "Thank you, Mr. Gray, for bestowing such an honorable gift upon me! _Don't you get it!?_ That wasn't for you to decide!" she stressed.

Rain held in her unsteady breaths once she rendered him silent. Her voice was low and controlled, "But that's not what I'm asking. I already know why I'm angry with you." She forced away her tears, "Why are _you_ angry with me?"

Michael turned away once more. "I don't want the first time we speak to each other in weeks to be filled with arguments, Rain."

He was almost pleading her to throw the subject away, but that wasn't enough for Rain. She needed to know what she did wrong, why was he so reluctant to speak his mind?

"I don't care," Rain barked. "Just say it!"

 _"What do you want me to say?!"_ he charged forward, with clear frustration in his tone.

"You act as though no one can see it! _Christ!_ Say what's bothering you, Michael! Don't try and wave it off! I'm not Polly or Thomas, you can't just expect me to manage with your silence. Every day since I came back-"

"- Yes, Rain! Why _did_ you come back?!" Michael demanded, violently slamming the empty bottle upon the counter.

At this, Rain faltered. Her reckless thoughts and heated arguments twisted into an unknowing silence and all she could focus on was the ringing anger in Michael. He took note of his true emotions that peeked through and immediately fell into that controlled state once more by lowering his voice. He challenged her with eyes wild and unpredictable.

"If you hadn't been here when Grace died, would you have been here for the funeral?"

"Stop it, Michael. That's not what I asked you."

" _Why?!_ " Michael leaned over the counter heated with aggravation. "You came back, you made your appearance," he listed, "Grace died. She's fucking dead, Rain!"

"STOP IT!" She demanded, slamming her hands on the counter.

"You were here for the funeral!"

"- _STOP IT! STOP-_ "

 _"-Why are you still here, Rain?"_

Desperate for him to stop, Rain took hold of the empty bottle on the counter and thrashed it onto the floor beside her. The sound of shattering glass initiated a tense moment of stillness. The heat in Michael's eyes didn't leave but he stormed a few paces away from the counter.

She had gotten him to speak, but his ingenuine response tore at her heart more than she'd expected. He was delaying the truth, but why? Rain knew Michael well enough to know when he wasn't telling the truth.

 _Why is he so reluctant to tell me what's going on? Does he simply not care for me as he used to? . . . Did he bring me to the Garrison solely to drink up the courage to tell me he no longer wanted to see me?_

"So you want me to leave then?" Rain implored in a clipped voice. Her breathing grew short. "Is that what you truly want me to do, Michael?"

Michael turned away slightly, chuckling to the floor in defeat. "I don't give a fuck what you do."

 _He's lying._ "Since when?"

"Since the day you decided I was nothing to you."

 _"And our trust?"_ Rain inquired, fighting back the urge to lose her voice as he refused to look at her. "Did that mean anything to you before you broke it?"

He said nothing.

Rain felt heavier than normal, as her rage got the best of her, when she climbed on the counter and over to the opposite end of the bar. She wouldn't let him pity her. If he wanted her gone then she'd go.

"Rain," Michael exhaled in defeat, but her feet were already planted across from him.

"Tell me to leave and I'll go." Rain pushed him against the edge of the counter, her threats spewing out like fire. "Say that you don't love me. _That it was all just a game_. That it was just for the fuck."

"Fucking drop it, Rain." He refused to push back.

"If that's what you want then say it and I'll leave! I swear it!" she gritted.

"That's enough, Rain!" Michael took hold of her wrists as carefully as she would allow it, though his frustration was quickly rising again.

Rain didn't let her anger and grief take over. The girl fought her arms free, but Michael wasn't putting up much of a fight to begin with.

Finally, after a moment of surveying Michael in silence, she stepped away from him.

"Where are you going?" he asked suddenly.

Rain found her hat on the bar and reached for it. "Goodbye, Michael."

"Wait," Michael stammered, but Rain had walked past him. "Rain, hold on! I'm sorry, just-"

With every step her heart began to shatter, but she did not look back . . . not until Michael cried out behind her, "- _For fuck's sake! LOOK AT ME, RAIN!"_

His haunting tone left Rain shaken with disbelief. She turned with her limbs tight against her figure.

There was fleeting sense of fear in her eyes, it caused Michael to pace away that very instant. He couldn't meet her eyes, he couldn't look at his broken Rain, not when he wasn't fully together himself.

"Can't you see that I _hate_ myself for being the one to upset you," He searched the walls for sanctuary, his breathing shallow. "I haven't slept in weeks, Rain. I couldn't find you- I searched everywhere. _Every fucking street in Birmingham_ \- what else was I to- how could I explain myself- and now," he scoffed, rubbing a hand over his face, "you're standing two feet away from me, but I can't even talk to you without remembering how you looked at me that night. I feel it every time I look at you."

He sighed in the silence they shared. She'd never seen him struggle desperately to form a sentence, to wipe away stubborn tears. With every word that came after, Rain felt a pit form in her stomach.

"No, I'm not angry with you, Rain." he said in a low voice, searching the floorboards for the right words. "It kills me that you'd even _think_ I was mad at you . . but you have every right to hate me, I just- I can't watch you leave again."

How she wished he would turn to her.

"You're the last person I'd want to lose," he said more clearly. "You're here now, but you're not yourself and I hate that I was the one who did that. I hate every _fucking_ second of being near you and not being able to-" he faltered, "-knowing it was all my fault."

"To what?" Rain asked softly.

In that instant Michael faced her. All the anger was stripped from his tired face, only to leave trails of despair.

Rain was startled by the sight of his genuine self. When he wasn't fighting to keep his composure, Michael appeared as though he were a younger man- no, _a lost boy_. He was lost, afraid . . . someone Rain had never met before.

His glazed eyes met hers and she recognized something in Michael, the softness in his eyes that he tried so hard to suppress. He took a step forward, but Rain strode ahead until there was no longer any space between them.

When his lips met hers, a familiar surge of heat traveled through Rain's body. She sank her body against his, letting her bones dissolve, fighting every reason to pull away from his embrace.

Rain never considered how welcoming someone's touch could be. She never knew the taste of someone's lips could burn through the grief she locked away in her bleak thoughts. She never knew the severity of isolation until Michael ran his fingers through her hair and pulled her close until there was nothing left to do but fall into his touch.

He let go, but for a fraction of a second. Michael's short breaths were warm against her cool skin.

"Tell me to stop and I will." He exhaled between kisses, with little control left in his voice.

Then he waited . . . until she failed to push him away. Rain felt his hands stride down the sides of her body at a deadly pace.

1

She shared breaths with him, her chest heaving against his.

2

She slid her hands down his chest, undoing each button as he watched the inferno breathe to life in her icy eyes.

... 3

"Rain," he begged softly. Before her hands could go any further, she was lifted off the ground.

Bottles of liquor were pushed out of the way as Michael ardently positioned Rain upon the counter. He pulled her forward, shoving her legs around either side of him. He wasted no time before edging forward, locking his lips with hers.

Rain and Michael shared an anguished kiss. A kiss that was weeks overdue. A kiss that did nothing to relieve Rain of her growing tension but only increased her need for satisfaction, for closeness, for _him_. With each kiss he whispered the words _I'm sorry_ into Rain's lips and along her skin, over and over. It was a chant, a glorious one heating against her cool skin with each breath he stole.

Confused: she was not. Rain's forgiveness was delivered in hushed sighs and feverish breaths. She was immersed, removed from any doubt of Michael's need for her.

She trailed her hands down the cold skin of his exposed torso before tearing away the rest of his shirt. She felt him shiver before he clasped his fingers with hers and stretched them high above their heads, against the shelves. He restrained her hands away as he took in all of her, but it was a fleeting fight. He couldn't prevent his own hands from trailing up the skirt of her dress, then the skin between her thighs.

With one hand impatiently pulling at her stockings and the other reaching for his own trousers, Michael let go of Rain's lips. There was a longing moment of raging impatience as Michael paused, retreating back to sink his gaze deep into Rain's conscious eyes. He breathed heavily against her, resting his forehead on her own.

In the dim lighting Rain could see the hesitation in his dazed green eyes. She saw the insanity that waited momentarily behind as he anticipated for her to push him away with her shaking hands, but she did not. She tangled her fingers through his hair, grasping tightly to calm her nerves, to bring her mind back to the earth. Rain closed her eyes, sharing one final, trembling breath with Michael before he eased himself within her.

Even as the rain fell viciously along the roof of the vacant pub, the sound of Rain's sharp inhale cut through the Garrison. _Was she in a pub?_ She couldn't remember, for the only familiar being in the room was Michael, and the only familiar sensation she felt was when he pulled her close and kissed her pain away until they escaped as soft moans.

He gave her no time to make sense of the tight pain that felt so very right. The more Rain clasped her legs around his torso, the harder Michael pushed them aggressively away. Her pitched voice grew restless, but it was as though her cries fueled his drive. His kisses traced the length of her throat as she dug her nails along his bare back, breathing as though it was her first time in weeks, as though his skin brushing along hers was what truly gave her life.

Michael was anything but gentle as her cries rang louder.

Rain was losing her control to Michael faster than usual. She jerked her head back against the shelves. The bottles of alcohol jingled with each of Michael's determined thrusts, their music matched the rhythm of the pairs breathing. She strained and stretched her body against his as he nuzzled his kisses along her collarbone. Michael shoved down the sleeve of her right shoulder, revealing part of her freckled body. He licked her bare skin before sinking his teeth in, muffling his moans away. Though she was nearing the edge of her sanity, Rain knew Michael was not yet ready to let her go, not just yet.

He held her right thigh up around his torso with his rough fingers, pulling her body closer to his. Michael felt Rain tense against him as she drew in an unsteady breath. The sight of her fighting off the release that awaited her sent his emotions flaring.

" _Wait_ ," she strained in a whisper, slowing her pace. "On the floor."

In that instant, Michael grabbed the sides of Rain. She clung onto him and he carried her off the counter. He bent down and gently set her atop his overcoat.

" _No_ ," she breathed, forcing herself up.

Rain swiftly toppled Michael over so that _he_ was strewn against his coat. She positioned herself over his body as he eyed her strangely, but he failed to protest before she lowered herself onto him. Her breathing shifted in that moment of adjustment, but she exhaled in a flutter and the strain evaporated from her face.

She began slowly, arching her body forward, getting a feel for the stance as she straddled Michael.

"Did you miss me, Michael?" she asked, breathlessly.

She teased him, purposefully forcing his hands over his head he did to her. His thoughts were clear in his aggressive expression.

"Yes," he exhaled tightly, as she hovered over him. "Every day that you were gone." He tried to kiss her, but she pulled away stubbornly.

She took her time, sliding her hands along the flesh of his abdomen as she sat up once more. Rain reached for the buttons of her black dress, pacing her hips against his at a faster rate. She watched, thriving as his self-control slipped away with each button she undid.

As the heat rose to her chest, she tore off her dress, letting it fall to her hips and around her thighs. She took both of Michael's hands and led his fingers up her sides and to her exposed breasts. Rain was growing furiously vehement with each pulse and she sensed that Michael was equally eager for her to unwind. The two were careful at first, slow and soft, but it wasn't long before her fluid motion grew ravage.

Rain arched her body forward then back to match Michael's movements. She could no longer hold in such a dire sensation of pain and her hunger for it.

Michael took a brief moment of clarity to look onto her face while she fought to reach her end. He traced his eyes over her lips as she bit back her cries. He sat up and he cradled her head in his hands. He wanted to hear her. The sound of Rain's moans were ecstasy enough, but he was given so much more by watching her let it all go.

They fought and scraped and thrashed their limbs against each other, yet all the while clinging together, yearning for a faster pace, vigor with angst and grit and forgiveness.

Michael drew out a heavy breath and convulsed.

He was hardly vocal, but hearing Michael answer Rain's dissolved sigh so utterly close led her straight into a restless dream.

 _She was undone._

The way he pulled her close and kissed every inch of her sent a wave of emotion glaze over her skin. Her senses rushed back to her system as she released her final strained breath. _She felt everything._ As she fell against him with her eyes shut tight, Rain felt her heart beat faster than a hummingbird's, she could hear the soft rain pitter against the roof of the Garrison, she could taste the salt of her sweat slip into a crevice of her lips, she could smell the rain in Michael's hair. She could feel everything . . . and then her senses began to fade.

* * *

Michael fell back onto his coat, dragging Rain down with him. His breathing was at ease, but he waited for Rain to fall into a relaxed melody. She shivered against him, but she was hot against his skin. He tangled her short hair delicately through his fingers, looking onto the ceiling way down from the very ground of the Garrison.

Rain's breathing was calm, steady even. Michael held her small frame close and didn't realize he'd been gazing up above as she slept against him. It didn't occur to him that he was falling asleep peacefully for the first time in weeks as well.

For the first time in weeks the boy slept soundly, upon the harsh floorboards of a pub with the girl he loved in his arms.

* * *

 _Note: You guys are fantastic 3 Thank you for liking the odd fantasies that roam through my head. - Fia J._

 _Post Script: I know, we get both Rain and Michael's perspective in this chapter, I'm sorry I'm a very lazy editor and apologize immensely if the scene was unclear._


	40. Striking

"She saw your clocks?"

Rain nodded her head against Michael's outstretched arm.

"You own twenty-five broken clocks?" he questioned again.

"No, I own eighteen broken clocks and seven unbroken clocks." she corrected him.

"Unbroken clocks?"

"Yes."

"I see." Michael considered, "So, why is it that you're troubled by Grace seeing your clocks?"

Rain sighed, turning away from Michael, although he was quick to reach for her hand as she pondered. He couldn't quite get his hands and eyes off her since they woke up on the floor of the Garrison.

Her eyes glazed over the ceiling of the Garrison, tracing along the wisps of false sunlight that peeked through the windows. "I guess," she huffed, searching for a coherent string of words to whisper into existence. "I'm bothered by the thought that she died thinking. . . maybe she thought I was mad, harboring bizarre objects and it was a mess, Michael."

As heavy as her words were, Michael couldn't help but softly laugh.

Rain glared at him. "It's not funny,"

Michael kissed her hand, "Grace thought you were anything but mad, Rainy Day." When Rain didn't answer, Michael shifted closer to her, wrapping his arms around her warm skin. He whispered in her ear, "Sometimes I thought you loved her more than me."

"What if I told you I still do?" With a weak smile, Rain curled into Michael's embrace. She let her aching bones relax against his body and felt his breath hitch as she placed a hand upon his chest.

"I'll have you any which way," Michael said. "As long as you'll have me."

Rain felt the deep vibration of his voice travel along her own skin, she shivered. Being so close to him made her senses run astray, as well as her _other_ urges.

"I love you, darling. You know I do." Rain whispered. Still, she wouldn't forget the image of Grace at her Charity dinner. Moments before she fell into a pool of blood, she was a sight for sore eyes. Her kindness would forever live on in Rain's memory. But now, poor Charlie. He was alone, with only a deranged father to love him while the maids looked after him.

Safe within Michael's arms, Rain felt guilt gnawing at her heart. But she did have a few things in common with Charlie, unfortunately, when it came to the death of a parent.

"When will I get to see these clocks of yours?" Michael asked lightly, as though he felt her tense up at the thought of Grace's death.

"As soon as they're all fixed and ticking." Rain lifted her head to kiss Michael. "I promise."

Before Michael could protest any further, the most peculiar sound rang into existence. With a sweet voice that followed saying, "Hello?"

Rain's eyes went wide and her ears red hot. The door was carelessly left open and now there were footsteps treading inside. Michael's green gaze pierced Rain's. They were both thinking the very same thought. No one in Birmingham would dare enter a Shelby Establishment for another week, maybe even more, not after Grace's death. Whoever was strolling in, she was no girl from this neighborhood.

"Hello!?" she called out again. "Is anyone here?"

Michael sighed against Rain's bare chest. "We had to leave some time."

Rain felt her spirit fall. If anything were to make her feel better, it was staying away from the rest of existence. Nevertheless, she pulled away from Michael and called out from behind the counter, "Give us one moment!" She quickly strapped on her undergarments and threw on her wrinkled black dress before getting to her feet.

Across the bar, near the door stood a girl. She was dressed in bright city clothes, as though she hopped off a train from London. Her dark amber locks were curled gracefully under a hat that cropped her slender face. She had ghoulish black eyes, it contrasted her soft, innocent face.

The girl's doll-like eyes went wide as Michael made his appearance from behind the counter, half naked. She immediately looked away and began to sputter for words. It was almost comical, being that she appeared to be the same age as Rain, no younger than twenty at least.

"Um, I am- I'm," she cleared her throat, "I'm looking for Polly Shelby."

Rain peered at Michael. Although the girl appeared harmless, even her cheek were flaming red at this point, but there was no telling what was in that small handbag. It wasn't easy or smart to trust just anyone these days. Hell, it took Rain an entire month to trust Michael.

He gave her a look of warning as she made her way around the counter.

"If you'd step outside I'll help you in just a moment." Rain voiced.

The girl smiled, as though relieved to be dismissed. Within seconds she was out of the door.

"Do you want me to handle this?" Michael asked, searching the floor for his trousers.

"Why? So you can scare her off with that demonic glare of yours?" Rain made her way to her coat and hat, across from where Michael stood behind the bar. "I'll be fine," she assured him. "I have a blade."

"What if she has a gun?" he protested.

"Well it's a good thing we made amends then, isn't it?" Rain raised her brows with a smile that reached her eyes.

It'd been her first true moment of happiness in a while. Michael took note of the normalcy in her playful banter. The tension seemed to fade from his stance in that instance. He took hold of her hand from across the counter and gave her one last kiss.

"Where will I find you afterwards?" he asked quietly.

"I'll find you." Rain squeezed his hand. "I always do."

* * *

"Everyone's off." Rain sighed. She left the Garrison and the events it held behind her, strutting into the cool dawn where the rain had stopped in its fall. "Including Polly."

The girl had taken off her hat to reveal curly locks of light brown hair. Her heavenly bright face held striking black eyes, that were as violent as the sea at night. Rain shuddered at the sight of them as she walked past her. The girl's brows were narrowed to reveal that she was far less self-assured than what her jarring bone structure led on. Lengthy she was. She towered slightly over Rain's figure, even in flat shoes. She had no trouble keeping up with Rain's quick strides across the wet pavement, although the heavy suitcase she carried was weighing her down.

"May I ask why the Shelby Brother establishments are closed?" her voice was as quiet as her guarded posture in that eye-catching coat.

Rain scanned the girl once over before deciding she was of no potential threat, but there was something peculiar about her disappointment towards the Garrison's temporary lock up and Polly's absence.

"Well there's been a murder, you see." Rain studied the girl's reaction as they walked along the empty streets, "so the funeral took place yesterday. Now the business is in mourning."

Rain led the girl carrying her hat and suitcase through an alleyway until they reached the garage that held her car. Red as it was, it looked as sullen as the grey morning. Johnny Dogs was asleep inside another automobile. Rain figured it would be cruel to wake him up so soon, to remember his grief all over again.

The girl hauled her suitcase one final pace before letting it drop to her feet. Rain reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled out a cigarette and lighter. She offered one to the girl, but she declined politely. Although she appeared to be from the city, the girl certainly didn't partake in city-like behavior. She came alone, that was for sure. No parents to hold her back, perhaps they were too rich and too preoccupied to care. Maybe she had other interests. Why else would she need to see Polly unannounced? Rain took in everything she could as she lit up her cigarette.

"That man inside the pub, was he giving you trouble?" she asked, out of breath. No sign of shock or disbelief, only a slight hint of warning.

"No," Rain waved the thought away, "he's just the brainless son of the woman you're looking for."

"Is he?" the girl inquired, almost with intrigue, before looking back at Rain in a different light.

"Yes," Rain answered carefully. The more the girl talked, the more Rain began to question the her trustworthiness. "Well even if he was giving me trouble, what would you have done to help me?"

With caution, the woman placed her hat back atop her curls and scanned the perimeter in a not-so-subtle fashion. She stepped forward, holding open her purse for Rain to peer into. She insisted, so Rain took a quick glance and found a compact pistol inside. Just as Michael had suspected.

"You're definitely not from Birmingham." Rain uttered, eyeing the girl who was quick to trust her despite their circumstance. "What's your name?"

"Anna Smith." she pinched the ends of her hand bag together, concealing her weapon.

"Well, Anna Smith, what's your business with Polly Shelby?"

"You work for the company, too?" the girl asked as though it were unusual, yet intriguing.

Rain blew out a puff of smoke, noting Anna's evasive behavior. "Mr. Shelby's a modern man." She began steadily. "The company doesn't discriminate towards women and half breeds if that's what your asking."

The girl began to prattle on once more, her eyes wide with apology. "I don't- I didn't mean that at all, I was just curious ma'am. Please don't take any offense. Why on earth would I belittle the only person who has been kind enough to help me today?"

Rain looked her over once more. The helplessness in her face. Rain had seen it before, on herself maybe, when she was new to Birmingham and the only person who helped her was Mr. Zhang. She let her shoulders sink and crossed her arms over her chest as the wind began to pick up.

"What's your business with Polly?" Rain asked again, more firmly this time.

"My aunt, Adelaide Smith, was once good friends with Miss. Gray when she was known as Elizabeth." Anna continued carefully, "You see, I was initially visiting Birmingham for work. I'm a journalist for the Daily Mirror, and I write articles for women's rights and accomplishments. My aunt saw the Shelby name in the paper a month ago. I thought I'd stop by and say hello to Miss. Gray, for old time's sake and to interview her for my article. But I feel now is not a good time, with the murder you speak of."

She was a good liar. Though some of it rang true, Rain was still skeptic of this journalist. Her suitcase was heavy, it may have held a typewriter, so she definitely was a journalist. However, to come without an entourage or even a letter of official business, that was where Rain's questions began. If there was any tricky business, Rain was to find out, which meant she had to keep Anna close and in sight. Michael would not like this, but when did Rain ever do anything according to Michael's expectations? Rain laughed internally at the thought. She _was_ going to tell him what she was planning. Michael deserved that much, but he wouldn't be capable of talking her out of it. Besides, Rain needed something to get her mind off of Grace's death.

"I just got off the train, but I guess I'll find an Inn nearby before I can book a ticket back. Would you point me in the right direction?"

"Well you'll have a hard time finding a nice inn around here." Rain replied.

The girl seemed lost at the lack of assistance.

Rain blew out a puff of smoke mid laugh and opened the side door of her car. "But I know a place, and the fee is almost nonexistent."

* * *

The ruddy old shack of a home stood just as pathetically as the day Rain left it behind. When she was in hiding, Rain had only come back to retrieve her belongings and pay the rent when she knew Michael wouldn't be there. Since then, the door remained locked and unopened.

Dust scattered from above as she shoved the door open. Anna coughed behind her as they slid inside the small, dark room. There was a stack of firewood near the hearth, and the small sink and mirror was in the far corner of the room near the door to the minuscule washroom. The only furniture inside was the dresser and the bed on the other end of the room. It wasn't an ideal inn, but it was enough for Rain to keep eyes on Anna.

As Anna trudged inside with her heavy suitcase, Rain closed the door behind her. "I know it's not London, but-"

"It's perfect." Anna said. Her black eyes were wide with thought as she scanned the small space, as though she were mentally redecorating.

Rain acknowledged Anna's eagerness and ambled over to the hearth to start a fire. "Make sure you put out the fires before you leave. The sink occasionally leaks at night, so be careful in the mornings, you might trip on a puddle. Feel free to use any of the spare clothes in the dresser, don't worry they've all been washed recently."

"Does someone else live here?" Anna asked.

"No, before you it was only me."

"Then who do these belong to?"

Rain looked away from her kindling fire. Near the dresser, Anna held a pair of male undergarments in one hand and trousers in the other over an opened drawer.

"Oh," Rain found herself grinning at Anna's confusion. In recent months, no one bothered to ask why she wore men's clothing. "Occasionally I try and blend in with the crowds at night, so as to avoid any trouble." The short answer was usually the best way to go. In full honesty, Rain felt more natural in trousers and a shirt. Though, the occasional dress was fitting whenever she thought it best.

Anna placed the clothing back in their drawer. "That's rather smart. It must've gotten you out of loads of trouble."

"You couldn't imagine." Rain sighed. She stood up from the warm fire in the hearth and walked over to Anna. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a spare key to the single bedroom flat. "Don't lose this." Rain reached for Anna's hand and placed it atop her palm. Really, she was looking for any signs of callouses or roughness, but the girl's hand was as smooth as butter. She really was a city-girl, most likely from a wealthy family. Could her story be true?

"Thank you," the girl exhaled before catching herself. "Lord, where are my manners? I don't believe I asked for your name."

"It's Rain." she said, holding out a hand. "Rain Cassin."

As soft-spoken as she was, Anna had a firm grip. It may have been the nerves, but she was definitely strong, considering she deftly carried her suitcase without complaints or heavy breaths.

"Rain Cassin." Anna tested the odd sounds together, holding steady eye contact. Even her accent appeared genuine. "You've been more than kind to me, Miss. Cassin. If there ever is any service you require from a journalist or even a friend in London then you'll always have me."

Rain let go of Anna's hand. The more she spoke with her, the more curious she grew. Who exactly was this girl and why did she seem genuinely innocent of any wrongdoing? Rain almost felt guilty for having any doubts about Anna in the first place.

"It's nothing, really. Any friend of Polly's is a friend of mine." Rain said with a smile before turning away. "I'll bring my car around in two days. Since Polly won't be available until the week's end, I figure you could interview other women of the company for your paper."

"That sounds wonderful!" Anna cheered, her wide smile in full bloom. Her angelic features were even more pronounced as her black eyes glinted in the light of the fire.

Rain stopped in her step as she reached the door's handle. She gave her old home one last sweep. Nothing seemed out of place, nothing except the tall, heavenly girl with striking black eyes standing at the center of it.

"Are you sure you'll be all right here?" Rain asked.

Anna nodded, she placed one hand over her small hand bag that hung around her shoulder, the one with the pistol inside. "I think I'll be just fine, Rain. Thank you."


	41. Ring Around

Boxing.

It was a growing sport among men. Anna had read about the craze in the Daily Mirror, but those games were more- orderly. She had even attended a few official matches with some of her friends. In London, Championship Games had referees, and titles, and heavily padded gloves.

Here, in the depths of a refurbished Shelby owned Gymnasium, two men were prowling around the ring. Their faces were bloody and broken with sweat glistening along their foreheads. Their gloves were almost too thin to be padded, and there wasn't a ref in sight.

There was an audience though. A few other men who weren't lifting heavy iron weights cheered on the men who were fighting. Anna treaded carefully behind Rain, but the grey-eyed girl didn't appear as anxious as Anna felt.

Earlier that morning, Rain appeared at Anna's door. Though she had a key, Rain still had the courtesy to knock. When she stepped inside, her eyes went wide with astonishment. Anna had managed to redecorate the small space over the few days of solitude. The city girl had brought her own blanket, white tablecloths, and even scented candles. There were a few mild changes in the placement of the bed and dresser to make room for her typewriter. She did a good sweeping and dusting the night before, Anna even managed to pry open the single window to let out the stench of mildew. She thought she had done a pretty good job at bringing a bit of home into the place, but she also hoped it wouldn't offend Rain.

The last thing Anna wanted was to anger this quick-witted young woman who had given her a place to stay without any cost.

Rain walked inside her flat, her ghostly eyes scanning the room as though it were unrecognizable. Anna watched as she practically glided around the room. She was wearing trousers today with suspenders and a shirt to complete her masculine attire. Anna thought it pointless. The ghostly girl possessed harsh cheekbones, a strong gaze, and sported a boyish haircut, but the softness in her full lips and playfulness in the arch of her eyebrows gave away her true identity. Her shoulders were broad and her stance, tall, but she moved gracefully, like a trained dancer or a cunning cat. And yet, the girl walked and spoke differently than when she was in dress two days ago. Perhaps it was a mental code switch that occurred with the type of clothing she wore.

"Are you unhappy?" Anna asked quietly, her shoulders sank.

"I'm anything _but_ that." Rain voiced. Her voice was low, but silvery. "I've attempted to clean up for years, but you've managed to do it in a fraction of that time. I'm impressed." She flashed a smile.

Anna couldn't help but stand a little taller.

"Are you ready for a tour of the business?" Rain made her way across the spotless room.

Anna felt her heart race. She didn't expect to get anywhere so fast, it may have been dumb luck that struck her when she met Rain. Pure, utter luck.

"Where to?"

Shortly afterwards, the odd pair had arrived at the family-owned Gymnasium. Anna followed Rain closely in the sweat-wreaking clearing. There were an awful lot of men near the entrance. No sign of a single female. She wondered how out of place she looked in her red coat and amber curls. Even Rain blended in, but Anna had a feeling her tour guide was already held at a higher status than any other man in the building. The entrance guards regarded Rain with a low nod. She didn't have to explain who Anna was or what her business was. It appeared that the lack of questioning only elevated Rain's mysterious affiliation with the Shelby company. Anna silently hypothesized what Rain had done to earn such a high place in business. Not only because she was a woman, but because she was so very young as well.

Rain fit in well, Anna had come to know that as they headed toward the crowd around the ring.

"Why exactly are we here?" Anna asked, cautious not to sound unsure.

Rain's eyes were on the two men fighting. "The office isn't open for another hour. Why not make use of our time?"

"By boxing?" Anna questioned, mainly to herself.

"We all grieve in our own ways." Rain said. Her tone shifted subtly, but Anna caught the sorrow in her words.

Anna couldn't recall the name of the person who had been murdered, but Rain appeared lost in thought for a moment. She must've been close with the deceased.

A loud groan caught Anna's attention. The younger man in the ring had his opponent cornered and his bloody fists didn't seem to be tiring out. The intensity in each blow garnered new cuts and bruises on the older man.

Among the excited shouting from the crowd and the loud blows of the fist fighting, Rain's reply pierced through. "Did you expect days of endless desk writing and record keeping?"

If Rain hadn't laughed, Anna wouldn't have known that she was only joking. Rain had a care-free laugh, one that was lighter than her rough voice. Anna held on to that observation as she stood stiff among the crowd. No one touched her or Rain, but she felt the restless energy from the men shouting and the men fighting.

A gruff middle-aged man with a curled mustache held up both arms in defense as the younger one jabbed around it. The young man with darker skin was quick and moved with a frenzy as though electricity surged through each hook and jab.

"Go on, Isiah! Finish that fucker!" Rain cheered beside Anna.

Anna looked back at the young man. He backed away from his wavering opponent, surveying the crowd. He bounced enthusiastically as he caught sight of Rain. His glistening body was practically sculpted into physical perfection. There were only a few drops of blood slipping off his sharp cheekbones and onto his right glove that he began to wave in Rain's direction.

And then those wild eyes caught on to Anna's.

She felt her body tense as he acknowledged her. The young man, _Isiah_ , he raised a brow as some form of flirtation. But in the next second, Anna found his opponent charging forward. Her heart leapt up, _shocked_ with surprise. Anna raised her hand to warn him.

"Watch out!" she gasped.

His wild eyes narrowed, but the young man turned around just before his sluggish opponent could strike his head. He deftly dived underneath the older man's swing, not only to escape the blow, but he swiftly spun around to punch hard at his opponent's lower back.

The whole crowd winced as the blow landed true and the older man fell to his knees. Anna reacted right along with the other men and Rain, but her body seized a bit more tightly, as though _she_ were the one being pummeled. She had both hands covering her eyes, but she couldn't help but peek through her fingers. Anna heard Rain's joyous laugh erupt among the silence as the older man fell flat on his face. The canvas reverberated his fall ten times over.

Anna had watched boxing matches before, but never were they as bloody or as up close as this one. She let her hands drop to take in the final moments of the match. The younger man, he had his gloves up in glee as the crowd of men cheered him on. Even Rain began to whistle through her fingers.

His boasting grin was as deadly as his breathtaking gaze. When he found Anna's eyes once more, he held out one glove toward her and winked through the blood.

She felt her cheeks redden in surprise. In the next second he came bouncing across the ring. Though his eyes left hers, she felt his presence grow that much stronger. As he brought his attention toward Rain, most of the men began to drift away from the ring and back to their usual posts. A few other men climbed into the ring to help the fallen man, but the winner came and bent down to greet Rain. The noise had died down. Though Isiah's breathing was heavy, his voice was as clear as the night.

* * *

"Rainy Day!" Isiah held out his glove for Rain to punch. "I see you're back for good."

Rain beamed at the sight of her bloody, yet victorious, friend. "Well, I did miss my car. I had to come back some time."

"Ooh," he held his glove to his chest. "That pains me so bad, yeah? You didn't miss me at all?"

"Christ! You're getting soft, Isiah." Rain taunted. Truly, she did miss her friend. She missed the banter he quipped and his playful behavior. She missed his energy and his taunting attitude. As much as she tried to push away her fondness for Isiah during her absence, Rain never stopped missing her friend.

"Whatever," He waved a hand away as he slipped through the ring's ropes and placed a heavy arm around Rain's shoulders for a rough embrace. "Just know that I missed my drinking mate since Mickey's been all messed up in the head."

Naturally, Rain pushed him away with a harmless jab to his side. "Your boy's fine now, don't worry about that."

Isiah smiled suggestively. "I bet he is, after the last few nights you shared with him."

Rain's grey eyes grew in size with the embarrassment that followed. She cleared her throat and gestured toward her guest. Isiah followed her line of sight and proceeded to grin wildly at Anna. Those striking cheeks were as red as her coat, but she held on to Isiah's gaze with those powerful black eyes.

"And who's this pretty bird you failed to introduce, Rainy?" Isiah asked eagerly, as he completely disregarded the strip of blood dripping down the side of his cheek. Perhaps this was even a method of his to gain more of Anna's attention, Rain thought.

The girl held out a slim hand, "Anna Smith. I'm a writer for the Daily Mirror."

Isiah held out a gloved hand, his intrigue seemed to double with that sentence. "What's a girl from London doing up here in Birmingham?" he speculated.

Rain watched as Anna grasped on to Isiah's wrist and shook it without a hesitation. Maybe Londoner's weren't as close-minded as Rain once perceived. Anna didn't appear uncomfortable, she simply stood out from the bleak crowd. She didn't know anyone here aside from Rain, but she knew how to adapt. There was definitely more to the striking girl's agenda than a simple journalist job.

"Anna wishes to interview our Polly." Rain began.

"Everyone in London is boasting about the Shelby Foundation." Anna continued, she seemed more confident when speaking about her purpose here. "I was more interested in the women running the business."

"Hmm," Isiah continued, "Did your papers in London print anything about Grace Shelby's death?"

Rain awaited Anna's answer along with Isiah. The girl's expression read that something clicked in her thoughts.

"The late Mrs. Shelby's death was all the Daily Mirror printed last week." Anna said, with remorse coursing her tone. "Again, I'm terribly sorry for your loss. I wish our chief editor would've sent me here sooner, so that I could've had the chance to meet her."

"She was one of the good ones," Rain said, putting the topic to rest. She addressed Isiah, who climbed down to the floor of the gymnasium. "I have a meeting today, but I promised Anna a trip to the office. Would you mind showing Miss. Smith around? Maybe introduce her to Lizzie."

"A meeting?" Isiah crossed his arms over his broad chest. His attention was fully on Rain now, and not Anna and her pretty curls. "Is Tommy back?"

Rain shook her head. "I'm not sure, but Ada said it was important. I got the news this morning."

Isiah found Anna's eyes once more. He grinned wickedly, "I'd gladly show you around the Shelby Establishment, sweetheart."

To Rain's surprise, Anna began to blush into a true red rose before smiling. "I would truly appreciate it."

"Go and wait outside the front door," Rain instructed Anna. "Isiah will retrieve you in just a moment." Anna didn't have to ask in order for Rain to add in: "No one will harm you here." It certainly did bring light to Anna's eyes.

With a quick nod, Anna was on her way. Isiah's eyes didn't leave her image as she ambled across the gymnasium, not until she was out the door. He leaned back on the base of ring behind them, his voice was quiet now.

"What's the deal with the fake name?"

Rain stood closer, so as to keep their conversation at minimum capacity. "I haven't figured it out yet. She appears harmless."

"They always do." Isiah remarked with a scoff.

"I searched her luggage, there aren't any weapons or important files. Just newspapers from the Daily Mirror."

"So she really is a high class journalist, then?" To Rain's amusement, he almost sounded hopeful.

"Could be," Rain nodded, but her thoughts wouldn't follow suit. "Or it could be that she's really good at hiding and fabricating an alter ego."

"Do you take me for a fool, Rainy?"

Rain faced Isiah, his eyes were already on her. "I take you for a master at detecting bullshit. That's why I want you to keep an eye on our Anna. Ask her questions, pay very close attention to her word choice, just appear interested in a non-interrogative way."

Isiah's shoulders sank with his expression. "What you're saying is, you want me to babysit." he sighed.

"Would you rather I take her to Mr. Shelby, where he can just shoot her and get it over with?"

"It would be less work for me." He shrugged.

Rain thrashed a fist at Isiah's side. This time he coughed from the power of Rain's hidden blow.

"Is that how we end our conversations now!?" he protested, exaggerating the pain of her rightful assault.

"Just keep her occupied until I'm through with this meeting." Rain began to walk away, towards the right wing exit where her car was parked.

"I missed you, too!" Isiah called back.

Rain let her muscles relax as she swerved around to wave her final goodbye at her friend. She was truly home this time, for good. And she would do anything she could to keep the peace while Mr. Shelby was . . . absent from his responsibilities. Rightfully so. With the help of Isiah's cunning intellect, Rain made it her goal to find out what Anna Smith's real motives were. Maybe it was simply an extra assignment Rain appointed herself in order to forget all the pain of the losses she had endured these past few months. But for now, it was time to visit Mr. Shelby's cold and lifeless manor, to attend a meeting Rain wasn't looking forward to. She didn't know the status of Mr. Shelby's sanity, but Michael would be there waiting for her arrival. That certainly did appeal to Rain's interests. All Rain could do was try and drown out the ray of incoherent thoughts in her mind as she drove out of the city.


	42. Don't Panic

It was cold in the city, but the lack of tenants and noisy cars made Rain's teeth chatter a bit more than usual. She wished for holidays near the sea. _Home_. She wished to go home. _Wasn't Birmingham home now?_

The grey-eyed girl approached the Shelby Manor in her automobile, shivering to her bones when the thought of her first home came to mind. It was therapeutic; to know that she owned it . . . because of Michael. Just weeks ago, Rain believed he would never want anything to do with her again, and yet, during their time apart, Michael was still doing more for Rain than she could ever ask for.

He was standing at the entrance of the ridiculously large mansion, coat and cap clinging to his body like it gravitated toward him. He fit in so naturally with everything around him. No matter the situation, Michael could blend in and in the same instance, stand out.

Michael was smoking a cigarette, eyes directly on the Rain as she placed her foot on the brakes and parked her car. The engine was cut off, and suddenly there was no noise. The absence of it was uncanny. It brought Rain back to the morning Michael was taken away from her, to the morning when nothing would ever be the same. Even the grey skies mimicked that bleak morning. _It all felt like a cruel joke._ All of it, really. The good and the bad. Rain's gloved hands tightened over the steering wheel as she revisited the events of that horrid time in her life. Michael's abduction, her father- Christ, her poor father _,_ and _Crimson . . ._

 _Oh, what she would've done to him._ How gladly she would've taken a knife and sliced his skin, one by one, until there was nothing but _red_ , nothing but his whimpering cry for mercy-

 _*Toc-toc-toc*_

The girl flinched in the driver's seat. Michael somehow walked up to the window and wrapped against it without Rain noticing. She quickly let go of the wheel and regained her senses. Faster than she intended, Rain stepped out of her car. The wind bit at her skin and blew her dark hair in all directions.

"Are you all right?" Michael asked in a hushed tone as Rain slammed the car door shut.

Rain had half a mind to dismiss his correct assumptions, but the look of concern on his face left her own emotions bare. "What do you consider to be 'all right' these days?" she sighed.

Before she could walk any further, Michael took hold of her hand. He pulled her close and tight against his chest. It was vivacious how easily Rain was able to sink against Michael and forget about her worries as he kissed her lips and grasped at her hair.

He let go, but Rain was still close enough to feel his cool breath brush against her lips. As he slipped both hands through her hair, Rain couldn't help but stare into those endless eyes of gleaming green lights. They managed to warm her up in that moment of solitude. In that moment it was only Michael and Rain standing where they danced the night of the wedding. It was where Rain unknowingly knew that she could never lover another person more than she did Michael.

"I feel it too, sometimes." Michael said, lowering his hands to hold hers.

Rain exhaled heavily, leading Michael toward the Shelby Manor. "I don't know how you manage to go inside without wanting to vomit."

"Some people are just better at hiding it." Michael shrugged.

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Rain challenged, with her own grin curling up as she caught Michael smiling.

"It means, I've been through far worse."

"What could possibly be worse than being abducted by another gang?" Rain questioned, hypothetically, of course.

Michael stepped up to the large doors and said, "Losing you, actually."

If not for the sickening feeling Rain was experiencing as she walked closer to the mansion, she would've mindlessly said, "It happened twice already, you should be accustomed to it by now." But she felt the tight grip of Michael's hand pulse ever so slightly.

He was being serious.

Rain didn't register the weight of her disappearance until that night at the Garrison. Hearing Michael say it again . . . she couldn't help but relive those moments of havoc. Before she could respond, however, it was _Ada_ who managed to open the front doors and steal Rain's moment of clarity.

"Finally," Ada sighed. "Come on," she ordered in an exhausted tone.

Rain's conversation with Michael had to wait. Ada wasn't as affectionate at the moment, which meant there was still business to be done. She was wearing all black, just as Rain and Michael, and every other person affiliated with the Shelby family. Ada stormed along the vacant corridor.

It was the exact opposite atmosphere of the wedding. It boasted the same temperature and pale aesthetics, but the halls were ridden with Grace's ghost. Rain followed closely beside Michael as Ada led them both into the main salon.

Polly was already waiting with her eyes racing the morning's paper. John and Arthur were no where to be seen. Michael walked ahead to embrace his mother. Polly appeared more in tune with her surroundings once she saw him, it was subtle but Rain had noticed. An overtaxed smile laced itself along her pursed lips as she wrapped her arms around her son. She even embraced Rain with a grasp of her hand. They all stood near the narrow windows that stretched to the polished ceiling. The sound of hooves beating along the rocky entrance way erupted from outside before any conversation could be exchanged.

"Is that him?" Rain cocked her head, confused as to what he was doing out in the cold, riding his horse at this hour. Then again, what could she possibly have expected?

"Was he out there all night?" Michael followed up.

"Every night since the funeral." Ada answered with another sigh. She was doing that quite a lot lately. "Comes back in the morning to see Charlie and feed the horses, and when it gets dark, he's off again."

Polly turned away from the window just as Michael leaned against the darkwood desk. She curled the newspaper in her dainty hands, and another smile formed along her lips as she glanced nostalgically at nothing in particular. "He used to sleep out when he was a kid. Curly would find him in the pasture." Then suddenly, Polly returned to her usual demeanor. "How's the baby?"

Rain noticed that smile faded away from Polly's tired face like a swift breeze. _Is that what death did to this family?_ Render everyone even more mad than they already were?

"He still asks for his mum at night." Ada shared, slumping her shoulders a bit more.

Rain had almost forgotten about Charlie. Would he remember Grace as she would? _Of course not._ He's not even a child of two years. Rain looked out into the corridor and found herself staring at the walls. All Charlie will have are these paintings. Maybe he'll even forget Grace's face when he's older and ask his father who the golden woman in all the paintings are. Maybe Grace's sweet voice will revisit him in his dreams, just as Rain's mother did in her dreams from time to time.

"Tommy made a list." Ada's heeled-amble across the floor brought Rain back to the purpose of the meeting. "He wants to see you two first."

Rain quickly caught Michael's glance.

Polly voiced exactly what Rain was thinking. "What about John and Arthur."

"They're to go in before Rain."

Before anyone could ask why, the main door was thrown open. Bodies grew stiff and all eyes shot to the corridor. The four of them waited for those heavy footsteps to stop- but they didn't. Mr. Shelby walked straight through the salon without acknowledging anyone, not even Polly. He made his way into the annexed hall that led to his office, coat and all, before slamming the door behind him.

It was a painful fifteen seconds. The tension was palpable. Rain found her hands scrunched into the pockets of her trousers. She was just as confused as the rest of them.

"Let's stick to the schedule, shall we?" Ada ushered Polly and Michael towards Mr. Shelby's office.

Michael gave Rain one last raised brow for assurance. She shrugged a quick response before he followed Polly into the hall. The door was shut once more as they disappeared.

* * *

Rain found herself alone with Ada for the first time in what seemed like ages. Predictably, Ada released the tension in her shoulders and slumped over to sit on the sofa. She looked exhausted, but still she kept up with her brother's grief as well as her own.

When Ada's deep blue eyes found Rain's, it was the very first instance in which Rain was at loss for words around Ada. Michael and Polly were only two rooms over, surely there were servants working about, but it felt as though the large house were empty save for Ada. She felt the need to speak before her ears exploded from the lack of noise.

Standing there in the salon, as Ada acknowledged her presence, Rain decided to fill the tense void she felt trapped in. So she muttered, "Should I start a fire?" instead of something more appropriate for the setting.

Ada breathed out once more.

"Stop doing that!" Rain's exclamation sort of burst out without her consent. The very second it came out, she regretted it.

Ada's eyes went wild with confusion. "Doing what?" she countered.

Rain threw a hand in the air as she paced the room. "You're sighing as though my very being disappoints you."

"Christ! Can't a woman sigh without there being some underlying context?" Ada argued. "Have you forgotten who just recently waltzed in here as though everyone's existence infuriates him? Why not question him?" she pointed at the door leading to Mr. Shelby's office.

" _God knows, you'd bring politics into this,_ " Rain muttered under her breath. "That's different, Ada." Rain explained, her voice was tight. "You've been different with _me_ , exclusively."

"Don't I have the right, Miss. I-can-just-run-off-for-a-month-without-giving-a-blooming-fuck-about-anyone-else?"

This time, it was Rain who sighed heavily. Always to the point, that Ada was. "I came back." Rain uttered weakly, knowing it wasn't enough of an apology.

"Like hell, you did." Ada stormed up from her seat.

"Ada, where are you going?" Rain called after her as she slipped through a separate corridor.

Ada didn't turn back, nor did she respond, but Rain followed suit. She rushed to finally catch her in the kitchen. The sun was somehow shining through the windows, but the vast kitchen was achingly cold. No workers, no fire, and no noise; save for Ada's clattering movements as she rummaged the cupboards and drawers.

"What are you doing?" Rain stopped at the foot of the steps.

"I'm making tea." Ada quipped.

Rain scoffed, "You're _angrily_ making tea."

"Why don't _you_ make it then?" Ada thrashed a drawer to a close. The racket echoed along the white walls. There was a tense moment of silence as Rain approached Ada. Anything could have spontaneously combusted if Rain were to have said anything that was the slightest bit foolish in that silence. She didn't even breathe properly until Ada turned to face her.

Rain was careful not to raise her voice this time. She held both of her hands together as though she were preparing to recite a prayer. Rain practically glided along the kitchen in her long coat, until finally Ada met her gaze with an unspoken rage.

Granted, Ada did have every right to be mad. Ada always did everything right, and yet she was still fucked in the end by Rain.

"I am a stupid girl-"

"-Yes, you very well are." Ada scoffed.

Rain lowered her head. "I know. I should've written to you. I should've come sooner. I should've done a lot of things, Ada, but you've got to understand _why_ I ran."

Ada's gaze softened, just the slightest bit, but Rain could catch her stubbornness falter from miles away. Her crossed arms loosened, her shoulders didn't appear as tense, and there was no sighing that followed suit.

"My father-" Rain started softly, this time she looked away, unable to continue that argument. "I couldn't face anyone for days after that night, Ada. Not even my uncle. It was like I was stuck in the dark . . . not just the darkness around me, but inside me- And during that time, I managed to get comfortable there . . . but I knew that I had to get out. I don't know how I did it, Ada, _but I did_. And now, Grace is gone . . . She convinced me to come back. I did it- for her. I came back and it happens all over again. Sometimes I can feel it creeping back, I can still feel its presence- like a curse, and it _frightens_ me so much, I-"

"Rain? Darling- _breathe!_ "

"-What?"

Rain didn't feel the shortage of air in her lungs until a maid's clacking heels echoed in the distance. She struggled to catch her breath and knew that Ada was looking at her this time. And she was _horrified_. Ada was seeing Rain for what she'd regressed to.

It had occurred to Rain in that moment of realization, that she was _crying_. Hastily, she tried to force her breathing down to a calm pace, but really she wanted nothing more than to run into a dark room where no one could see her.

The maid was in the kitchen before Ada could say or do anything to comfort Rain. She was an older woman, all proper and petite, announced that "Mr. Shelby's brothers have arrived."

"Thank you, Mary." Ada cleared her throat, and with that the maid left.

Rain's breathing was close to normal by the time the exchange was over. She had no doubts that her nose was all stuffy and her eyes red. Oddly enough, she couldn't bring herself to look at Ada. The one person who she could speak to about anything, suddenly she couldn't even bear to look at her in this state.

"I should go and brief them on Tommy's schedule." Ada faltered in her speech, but placed a hand on Rain's arm.

"I'll put on some tea." Rain turned away so that Ada could leave without seeing any more of the show. She hated herself for falling into that place again. That was twice in one day, and stronger than any previous fits. Rain could feel Ada hesitate before leaving. She mindlessly began to look for the kettle through the cupboards until Ada was gone, wishing she didn't feel anything at all.


	43. No Family Meeting

Rain didn't make her way back to the salon until John and Arthur were stepping out of Mr. Shelby's office. They seemed riled up and angry. Of course, were they ever level-headed? But they were displeased by something Mr. Shelby had said, obviously. Or it may have been the fact that they'd seen their brother _after_ Polly and Michael. That's the sort of thing that would not go unnoticed.

Nevertheless, Rain nodded her greetings toward the Shelby brothers. They solemnly did the same, and let her pass through without a word. Rain felt it best to get the hard part over with. Whatever it was Mr. Shelby wanted with her, she didn't expect it to be anything pleasant.

* * *

Entering Mr. Shelby's office was like slipping into a physical representation of his mental state. The books were scattered all around his desk. The drapes were strewn carelessly aside to let in just enough light for necessary visibility. Papers were haphazardly placed here and there, as though they were thrashed out of his sight. Yet, he still managed to meticulously place a glass of whiskey and an ashtray right at arms length.

The cascading curtains behind him cast a dark shadow along his brooding figure. The dark man sat in his chair behind his disorderly desk as though he were attached to it. Every paper he was signing or looking over had its own purpose. There was a system Rain was not seeing. He was constantly in motion, as though he didn't notice she'd entered his office until she was seated before him.

From up close, Rain could see that he'd lost the fullness in his face. It made him appear that much more alarming, like a man deprived from anything heavenly. The last remaining bit of his humanity- it was stripped away when Grace was taken from him.

Rain had taken off her coat and gloves back in the kitchen. Only a few minutes in his office and Rain wished she had brought them with her. The wasn't a fire burning in the hearth, and his dark gaze made her shiver a great deal more than it should've. Mr. Shelby, on the other hand, he was dressed as though he were sitting right next to a fire. No coat, just a shirt, his vest, and loaded holster. His usual polished appearance was exchanged for a ragged and distraught demeanor.

Rain sat in silence. Usually, she'd share a quip or two to irritate the dark man who was always sulking in his own sinister thoughts . . . but now, she was sitting before a dark man who had just lost his beloved wife due to a bullet that was meant for him. She didn't have much heart left in her to make light of the situation anyway, but even Rain knew when to shut up. So, she waited in an uncomfortable silence.

As she sat there, waiting for Mr. Shelby to start the meeting, Rain realized he was _staring_ at her. Not through her or above her, but directly into her grey eyes. His deep eyes were often filled with war, love, loss, and _blood_. Today, Rain saw nothing but a pool of blue threats. He was still, unmoving, but the mania was dangerously ready to erupt. A few months ago, Rain probably would've faltered at this very moment, but she had come to know more about this dark man. It simply wasn't her turn to talk.

"Your birthday," Mr. Shelby began. He leaned back in his chair, shifting his sight to the bookshelves behind Rain. The weight of his gaze was lifted instantly. The smoke from his neglected cigarettes began to form a cloud over his figure. His voice was as rough as Rain had imagined it would be, but she did not get the notion that he was angry. "It was that night, wasn't it?"

Rain hesitated before nodding slightly. She'd wondered, profusely, why Mr. Shelby wanted to speak to her specifically, and alone, but this? It was almost like a trick question, like any answer could be the wrong answer that set off a time bomb.

Instead, he grunted softly before sitting up to dig through one of his desk drawers. Seconds later, Mr. Shelby pulled out a neatly wrapped box. It was as long as his arm, but not too wide. On top of it was a small, leather pouch, about the size of Rain's fist. He placed them carefully atop his desk before Rain. He didn't say a thing, but Rain knew what he meant by the gesture.

The girl remained seated and reached over for the pouch first. Once opened, she was confused as to why there were two diamonds shining ever so slightly at the bottom of it. The night before the heist, Rain instructed that Mr. Shelby should keep all of the diamonds. Why did he leave her a cut when she made it clear she wouldn't want anything to do with them.

"Grace insisted that you have a share." Mr. Shelby muttered.

Rain tightened the pouch up again and placed it next to the wrapped box. She didn't care that she was slightly aggressive about it. She didn't even flinch when Mr. Shelby met his ghoulish eyes with hers. Rain's voice was strong but light enough not to discourage the sensitive atmosphere. "Id like to donate my sum to the Grace Shelby Institute. In return, I'd like my old job back."

He didn't say anything for a moment. He was just- contemplating. Rain sat up higher in her seat, but softened her gaze.

"Is that what you want?" Mr. Shelby asked, almost lethargically as he picked up his dying cigarette.

She was never more sure of herself than in that moment. "Those jewels have brought me nothing but chaos."

"I know the feeling." he muttered, as though he were speaking to himself.

Rain didn't understand what Mr. Shelby meant by it, but she had a strong feeling it had to do with Grace.

He cleared his throat, eyeing the boxed gift.

This time, Rain stood up on her feet. She carefully pulled on the red ribbon. In that instant, she knew who it was from and understood why Mr. Shelby was there to see her unwrap it. Rain lifted the top off and placed it beside the box. Inside was a lavish brown skirt. Rain lifted it up carefully out of its fold, taking in the soft texture. Before she could examine it, however, she found an envelope within the fold. Rain took hold of it with surprise.

"Read it aloud." Mr. Shelby said. His eyes were somewhere else now, scanning something that wasn't in his office.

It was a command, not a suggestion.

So, Rain opened the enveloped and read her letter from Grace aloud.

"Happy Birthday, my dear Rain. You've come a long way since you first joined Shelby Brothers Limited. You've also grown to be a stronger, more clever, and more beautiful woman. Your father would've been proud." Rain let out a shaky breath before continuing in a lower voice, "I'm most thankful for how greatly you've influenced our family. Tommy and I hope you can find it in your heart to visit more when you're ready. I know what you've endured is not easily forgotten, but we haven't forgotten about you, my dear. I haven't forgotten at all. Our doors are always open . . . Love, Grace."

Rain folded the letter back over itself, the weight of it was more evident now that she'd read it. Her breathing was more quick than she intended it to be, but Rain waited. She waited and reveled in the silence that followed her reading of that letter. She waited for Mr. Shelby to say something, or even pour himself a drink, but he kept searching for something in those words. Rain caught his eyes racing back and forth before he sank into his chair and scoffed slightly.

"She spoke of you often." he said softly, closing his eyes.

It was the most tranquil Rain had seen him in a while. He could've fallen asleep right there if Rain hadn't known any better. She didn't know what to say. What could've possibly eased his pain more than the last written words of his murdered wife?

Thomas Shelby was clearly lost in his own thoughts, swimming in the symphonies of his wife's memory. Rain had no intention of being present for whatever else he could possibly say. And she didn't want to shed a tear in front of him either. So, the girl quietly gathered her things and stepped away from Mr. Shelby's desk. He didn't stop her as she walked across the room and through the door.

Rain made sure to be alone once she was out in the salon. The comfort she felt in isolation wasn't an ideal form of relief, but she reveled in it nonetheless. She was quick to sit down in a dark corner and read Grace's letter. She may have read it a hundred times without knowing it. She read it until she memorized each word by heart. She read it until she could see those delicately written words on the carpet or on the the walls. By the time the girl folded it over, it was stained with dry tear drops.

Finally, the girl opened the gift box once more and took out the soft skirt. She held it close to her heart and realized that it was designed with _pockets._


End file.
